Memoirs of the Heart
by Alara16
Summary: A collection of one-shots belonging to the world of Dark Waters. There will also be AUs of it. Fifth chapter: the life and times of a boy named Rei, and what made him the man known as Kaguya Hiyasu, Sandaime Mizukage of the Bloody Mist.
1. A Tide of Change

**AN: Hey guys. I wrote this months ago, in my birthday actually (I'm sixteen now. Yay!), and I thought I would give you something nice (well, not really. I personally found it very sad to read this). This one-shot happens after Kurai wakes up but before she is summoned to the new Yondaime's office.**

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**Memoirs of the Heart**

**A Tide of Change (DW)**

**Summary: In which Yagura wants to get drunk, but can't, and Ao, as always, makes a nuisance out of himself. Ah, and someone stole the wine bottle. That person is dead.**

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It was funny, Yagura sometimes thought, how people lied so easily every day in their lives.

A child will lie to their parents or their teachers to escape from doing their duties. A boy will lie to make himself seem more important than he actually is to the girl he likes. A person will lie to their spouse about being busy when in reality they will be going to spend the night in their lover's bed.

And a man will lie to a child, just so that when he finally revealed the truth, he would see it shatter the boy who thought he was loved.

Yagura had no problems with lies, truly. He was a shinobi after all. Falsehood and deception were essential tools of the trade if one wanted to live a longer life than most. He himself was an accomplished liar, maybe not as good as Fuguki (and certainly not nearly as good as a certain Uchiha spy he could name), but a decent one nonetheless. He had had to be, if he planned to kill the bastard who held the title of the most powerful shinobi in Kiri, while having to see and talk with said degenerate every other day.

No, Yagura didn't have a problem with lies or the people who used them daily. What angered him were people who lied to themselves.

If there is one person in the entire world one should be honest to, it was to themselves. If only to keep their sanity intact in this dark, merciless place.

Maybe that's why Yagura, sitting inside the Sandaime's office (_his _office now, and isn't that just _splendid_?) is currently drinking himself under the table, a month after being made Yondaime Mizukage of Kirigakure. Because if he can't be honest with himself, than it was better not to say or think anything, and the best way he knew of accomplishing that was to get dead drunk.

His mind was finally beginning to get fuzzy, but since the walls were still not moving nor the ceiling spinning above his head, he mournfully concluded that he wasn't there yet.

He was just reaching for the third and last wine bottle (he had found Hiyasu's secret stash. Say anything about the man, but he had had good taste when it came to drinking), when the door to the Sandaime's office (really, he should stop referring to it as Hiyasu's. It was his now) opened.

"I don't know what the hell's wrong with you, but you can't spend your first month on the job totally wasted," that was the first thing Ao growled as he strode forward, wrenching the bottle away from Yagura's grasp before the latter could so much as offer a token resistance.

Slowly, the new Yondaime Mizukage looked from his empty hand to the wine bottle resting tauntingly in Ao's hand, beckoning him to go get it.

He very much wanted to go get it.

"That's mine," he said in way of greeting. A part of him distantly noted that if he still could talk eloquently, he wasn't doing a good enough job at getting drunk.

The hunter-nin scowled at the Mizukage before giving a despairing cry when he realized exactly what kind of treasure he was holding in his hand.

"Is this...?" he seemed lost for words.

Understanding the man's shock (it was a _very _good wine), Yagura nodded.

"Made in...?"

Again, a nod.

"And you were just using it to get drunk?!"

Another nod, this one accompanied by a shrug.

"You're not serious," a horrified Ao said disbelievingly. "You can't just... just... just chug it all down! You have to let it breathe, and only after that start sipping from a small glass. _Sipping_, Yagura, not drinking straight from the bottle like it's goddamned water, for heaven's sake! You have to savor these things, take it slowly for maximum enjoyment-"

"Are you really trying to teach me how to drink my wine?" Yagura deadpanned. It seemed too ridiculous a topic.

Ao shut his mouth with a click. Yagura raised an eyebrow.

The blue haired jounin sighed, "What are you doing Yagura? Really?"

All of a sudden, Yagura felt anger cloud his mind, running hot in his veins and making his hands tremble with the need to do _something_. Maybe punch a brick wall until the skin over his knuckles ripped and bled. Maybe smash Ao's face on said brick wall until he had lost too many of his teeth to say one more word.

Yagura looked up at the blue eyes of his comrade. "What do you want me to say Ao?" he asked, voice tight while he attempted to curb any emotion away. He wasn't doing a good job, seeing how tipsy he had begun to feel. "What do you want me to say? That I'm drinking to celebrate my promotion to Mizukage? That I'm drinking in honor of all the people who should have been here to see it, but aren't? Or that I'm drinking because I'm too goddamned _weak_ to face the truth?"

"And the truth being...?" Ao asked warily.

"That me being the Yondaime changes absolutely _nothing_." Yagura said harshly. "That Hiyasu was _right_," the words burned on his tongue, making him want to retch, especially when he realized how truthful they were.

"Now I know that you're really drunk," Ao said lightly, wine bottle swinging in his hand. Yagura almost hissed at him to be careful with it. "Paying attention to a dead madman? What has gotten into you, Yagura?"

"Look around you Ao. What has changed? The council is still ruled by Kaguya men, the Graduation Exam is _still_ in effect, our village's economy is barely surviving by a thread, if we don't get some allies _right now_, Kirigakure may not be standing when this war is over… How am I supposed to fix all of that when half of Kiri wants me dead?"

"By trusting in the men and women who helped and believed in you," Ao said, sharp blue eyes watching him. "You are not alone Yagura. You don't have to do everything on your own."

Pink eyes fixed themselves on the hardwood table, too tired to meet Ao's gaze. "But don't you see Ao?" Yagura said, tone almost imploring. "That's the problem. How can I trust any of them… after all the horrible things that they've done? After all the horrible things _I've_ done?"

Immediately, Ao was on his feet. "What we did was for the good of Kirigakure. Every death, every wrong deed, was in the name of the greater good. Every sacrifice was accepted and honored. We all agreed that they were necessary."

Yagura snorted. "Accepted? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Takagi-san accepted his brother's 'honorable sacrifice' when we sent him on his way to be killed by Hiori. Especially when we refused to let him have his revenge. But the boy wouldn't be stopped, would he? No, he had to go and try to kill Hiori even we made it clear that he couldn't. And what did we do?"

Ao shook his head, blue eyes flashing. "We warned him. Again and again, we warned him."

"What did we do?" the new Mizukage repeated, pink eye boring in the jounin.

"You know well what we had to do Yagura! We couldn't let him do that! Hiori would have killed him but not before extracting every bit of information he possessed! He had put our whole operation and everyone's safety at risk-"

"_What did we do, Ao?_"

"… We killed him." Ao finally bit out, a scowl marring his face as he fell back on his seat.

Yagura nodded, slow and measured. "We killed him. An innocent. Worse, a person dedicated to our cause, one of our own. And we didn't even have to stop to consider the morals behind that decision, did we? He was a security risk that we took care of; it was as simple as that. We did it without hesitation, without even a blink. We murdered one of our own in cold blood when all he wanted was justice for his beloved brother."

"We warned him what would happen," Ao repeated, but the words seemed feeble even to his own ears.

"And we couldn't have thought of another way? We could have put him in a cell until he either gave up on his revenge or we won and could set him free. But that would have taken too much effort, wouldn't it? Someone would have to stand guard over him day and night to make sure he couldn't escape, we would have to invent some excuse to his disappearance, and whatnot. We couldn't waste resources like that when we needed every single person out there, doing their job and to not arouse any more suspicion. No, it was better to just dispose of him. Who would notice one more body on the ground? There were already so many there, no one would ask bothersome questions. It was simply easier to just… kill him."

Ao looked down, a familiar heavy weight settling in his chest. Yagura continued.

"We did what we've been taught to do since we were children and didn't even stop to think about doing it differently. We didn't even _try_. With that kind of mentality so deeply ingrained in our minds… how can we expect to change anything?"

The room fell into a somber silence as both men reflected on the words spoken.

"You're right," Ao said suddenly, startling Yagura from his thoughts. The Yondaime looked at him questioningly.

"You're right," Ao repeated. "We can't suddenly change our way of thinking, not after so many decades. But we all knew that the road to a better future would be a long and hard one. It may be too late for you and me, and all the people who worked with us… but it's _not_ too late for Gyo's boys, Mangetsu and Suigetsu. It's _not_ too late to Kisame and Akihiro. It's _not_ too late for Kurai."

At the mention of his daughter, Yagura tensed, guilt once more plaguing his heart when he thought about how he hadn't talked or seen her since she was discharged from the hospital.

"They have a chance, Yagura. They still have a chance to be free from our past, from this village's bloody history. They can still surpass this, _us_. If you won't fight for us, then fight for them. For the next generation. Fight for the changes that _they_ will bring, and hope that they will be wiser and stronger than we were."

"Hope? You want me to hope?" Yagura asked, a little amusement showing in his voice.

But there was nothing funny in Ao's face as he nodded back seriously. "Yes. I want you to have hope in your daughter and her friends, because despite what you think Yagura, she _does_ have them. She managed to create bonds of friendship with other children; strong ties that I doubt will be cut anytime soon, if at all. She has already gone against the teachings of the Graduation Exam, proven that they mean nothing to her. If you can't believe in your supporters, believe in your child."

"They are _children,_ Ao. Who would believe in them?" the Mizukage said, a sneer pulling at his mouth.

"I do. And you do too, deep down."

Yagura's shoulders dropped. "I don't know what I believe in anymore."

Ao sighed, standing up. "Then I will let you think about it a little more, alright? When you reach a decision, warn me. I would like to know which one it is."

"By your leave, Yondaime-sama," he bowed, and left the room, his departure as sudden as his arrival.

Yagura waited a few minutes, making sure that the man had really left. After that talk he would need all the alcohol he could get his hands on. So he returned his attention to his desk.

His _empty _desk. As in, devoid of any alcoholic beverages. As in, cleared of any bottle of wine.

His wine... was **gone**.

"That damned Ao," Yagura breathed out in a harsh breath.

Silent, he stood from his chair, calmly walked around the table and then broke into a mad dash after the wine-stealing bastard who still didn't know he was a dead man walking.

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**AN: Can you believe that I had this thing gathering dust in my computer since February? Anyway, this thing is supposed to be a collection of one-shots pertained to the world of **_**Dark Waters**_**, scenes that never made it into the story. I am also accepting requests, so if you want to see another one of those (like, a one-shot about Kisame and Kurai's childhood, more of Yagura and Ao and so on), just tell me. And as always, don't forget to review.**


	2. A Father's Fair Warning

**AN: For BasicallyComplicated, who requested a one-shot with Yagura threatening Kisame about Kurai. This one's for you!**

**Warnings: this happen in a modern!AU, the ninja version will appear later in Dark Waters, so don't worry if you really want to see Yondaime Mizukage Yagura trying to protect Kurai's virtue from a hungry shark.**

**Also this is unedited.**

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**A Father's Fair Warning**

**Summary: In which Yagura is the Devil who wears a pink apron, Kisame is a poor, innocent victim with (mostly) pure intentions, and Kurai remains as oblivious as ever. But it's okay, because who doesn't like watching 'Finding Nemo'?**

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Today really was a beautiful day. For once, there were no clouds in the sky, the sun was shining brightly, the birds were singing in harmony and even the cold morning mist that usually permeated the streets of Kiri City was absent.

So of course, that meant it was the perfect day to take his Sukoshi out in a date.

(Not that the girl realized that it was a date. She seemed content thinking that these little outings of theirs were no different from when they were still young brats running through Kiri, ditching school in favor of searching for adventures as the amazing monster swordsman Hoshigaki and the incredible superwoman Spring Girl. Kisame let her believe that)

Whistling, the eighteen years old strolled down the streets, already thinking about which movie he could take Kurai to watch. There was a new action movie about ninjas called 'Waruto' or something like that. Their friend Akihiro promised that the visual effects alone were worth the money spent to see it and Kisame was inclined to believe him. Wazashi wasn't one to exaggerate after all. But maybe she would prefer some of those sappy romances? Takara had told him yesterday about one called Icha Icha Paradise, apparently based on some guy's novels, looking a bit teary eyed as she recalled particularly touching scenes. Then again, Kurai was never one for girly things, one of the traits he always liked about her. A horror movie then? There was one that was supposed to be good called 'The Demons of the Bloody Mist', and even though it apparently starred Mangetsu (how had the asshole even managed to participate in a film, much less as one of the leading actors?), his little brother and that Zabuza kid, Mei assured him that it was good.

Then again, if it was _Mei_ who said that to _him_…

But it still could be a golden opportunity, couldn't it? While Kisame doesn't ever want to see Kurai crying in fear, maybe that could be a chance for him to offer comfort? Like, holding her hand in the dark, letting her snuggle closer to his chest in search of protection from the screams and blood that will no doubt be splattering the screen or something along those lines…

Well. It could work, actually.

Grinning widely, Kisame knocked on Kurai's door.

And then his grin vanished, good humor dying a quick and painful death, because it wasn't Kurai standing in front of him. It would have been better if he had been facing that bastard Mangetsu. He could have even handle Hatake, the Green Spandex Freak or that little brat half-brother of hers, Shisui, who would come visit from Konoha occasionally, much to Kisame's distress. But no, curse his luck, it was ten times worse.

It was her _father_, wearing a pink kiss-the-cook apron that matched perfectly with his eyes and armed with a frying pan.

Kisame was sure he was one of the most terrible monsters that have ever haunted little kids' nightmares in the midnight hour.

"Ah," Izumi Yagura, Chief of Kirigakure's Police force, said blandly. "It's you."

Kisame honestly couldn't remember a single time when the man had ever called him by his name. He wondered if he did that on purpose.

Looking at Yagura's glacier pink eyes, Kisame concluded soundly that yes, the man knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"Yagura-san," he said with no discernible emotion in his voice, besides polite interest. "Is Kurai home?"

Seconds slowly ticked by as he patiently waited for an answer. After realizing that Kisame wouldn't leave, Yagura nodded once. Kisame waited a bit more, well used to that routine by now. At least Yagura had stopped slamming the door on his face some ten years ago.

The man sighed.

"Kurai! Visit for you," he called, loud enough to be heard.

"Ah? Kisame's already here?" came a beautiful voice from upstairs. "He's early. Tell him that I'm finishing getting ready. Just give me five more minutes. And please, Otou-sama, let him enter."

Begrudgingly, he did.

Kisame stepped inside the house, prepared to wait in the living room, only to stop when in a deviation of their normal routine, Yagura motioned for Kisame to follow him into the kitchen. Wary, Kisame did, trying to keep the frying pan in his line of sight at all times.

(He had _seen_ what Yagura could do to a human being using only a frying pan. Kisame had had nightmares for a week after that.)

It seemed he had arrived while Kurai's father was busy preparing next week's dishes, because there were pots of delicious smelling food cooking on the stove and a whole piece of meat waiting on the kitchen counter to be cut up into smaller pieces.

Yagura let go of the frying pan, but before Kisame could breathe a sigh of relief, his hands closed around a kitchen knife.

Suddenly, Kisame couldn't breathe at all.

It got worse when Yagura started to cut away the meat's fat because by the blissful look he was sending him, Kisame was pretty sure the man was not imagining himself cutting up a piece of meat.

And if he was, than it was shark meat.

"Where do you plan to take my daughter today?"

He fidgeted, trying to look as innocent as possible, not that that ever worked against Yagura, but there was always hope that one day he would just leave Kisame be.

(Yeah, right)

"We're going to the cinema," the teenager finally answers.

"Really? What movie are you going to see?" he asked, tone that of polite interest.

"Ah, err, I was thinking, maybe… The Demons of the Bloody Mist-! Eep!" Kisame jumped when Yagura slammed the knife in the meat he had been cutting, with enough force to stick it to the wood it was resting on.

He was smiling. That alone terrified Kisame more than anything.

"No, you are not," Yagura says calmly, smile never leaving his face as he detached the knife from the meat. "You're going to take her to watch 'Finding Nemo'. These," he stopped for a moment in order to fish two tickets out from one of the apron's pockets, sliding them across the table towards Kisame. "Are your seats. You will be in row A, seat 5 and Kurai will be in row H, seat 13."

Kisame spluttered. "Now, wait just a moment-"

"And you will go watch this movie and walk my daughter home before dinner time, which will be at seven p.m. sharp. Not one second later or there will be consequences. You will not hold her hand while walking, you will not hug her or, heavens forbid, **kiss** her. I will know if you do."

And God help Kisame, but Yagura really looked like he would. He swore, the man had been a ninja in a past life or something. There was just no other explanation.

That theory of his seemed to grow in credibility as Yagura leveled the kitchen knife in his direction.

"You don't want to get in my bad side, do you Kisame? No, of course not. You're a smart boy, so you know what will happen if I find out you have _contaminated_ my daughter with your filthy and lecherous fantasies."

He wanted to protest, because though it was true that Kisame had had dreams about what could happen between himself, Kurai and a king-sized bed (he was still a hormonal teenager, after all), Yagura made it sound as if he was an old man only trying to get in Kurai's pants (knickers?).

In truth, trying to get in her heart was good enough for him.

But he didn't say anything, because he was starting to feel a bit faint, not to mention cross-eyed as his eyes tried to track down every slow movement of the knife as Yagura leisurely waved it around.

The relief that washed over Kisame as his Sukoshi's voice called him back to the hall was indescribable.

In seconds, he was out of the kitchen and already gently pushing Kurai towards the open door. He was almost leaving, ready to closer the door behind him, when Yagura's voice halted him.

"Ah, and Kisame."

Slowly, as if he was trapped in some kind of crappy horror movie, Kisame turned his head to look over his shoulder at Yagura.

The man looked as unruffled and calm as usual, which was simply not fair when Kisame felt as if his heart was in serious danger of stopping. His grip over Yagura's tickets to 'Finding Nemo' tightened.

"Remember that I'm a police officer. I _know_ how to cover my tracks," the kitchen knife gleamed dangerously in his hand. "They will **never** find your body."

And then he smiled, gentle and child-like, almost innocent, and Kisame was certain in that moment that he had met the Devil himself.

_Thank God I'm one hell of a shark demon_, Kisame thought, somewhat delirious, as he ran to catch up with his Sukoshi.

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Against all odds, Kurai was actually pleased with the chosen movie.

"It was my favorite when I was a child," the sixteen years old girl explains as they wait in line to buy the popcorn. "I used to watch it all the time with Father."

"I can imagine," he answers dryly. Because _of course_ they would watch a movie about a clownfish that does anything in his power to find and protect his kid. Not that Yagura can even remotely be linked to a clown in any way, shape or form.

But later that night, Kisame is grinning like a loon as he goes back to his apartment after walking Kurai home, because Yagura never said anything about _her_ kissing _him_.

(Sure, it was on the cheek, but progress is progress, right?)

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AN: Thoughts?


	3. Soulmates Part I

**AU: So, a friend of mine asked for a Soulmate AU of Dark Waters and since I was free, I indulged in his wish. There will be a second part (and maybe more than that depending if you guys like this).**

**Warnings: this is unbeta'ed, so beware grammar mistakes.**

**Soulmates**

**Summary: In a world ruled by ninjas, where everything is shrouded in darkness, blood and death, where sometimes even looking underneath the underneath may not be enough to save you, having a Soulmate may either be the greatest of joys... or the most terrible curse Fate bestowed upon you.**

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Since the time of the Sage of Six Paths, most of the people grow up to have Soulmarks.

At some point before your eleventh birthday, somewhere in your body, the name of your Soulmate will appear on your skin.

For a civilian, Soulmates are everything they want. The mark on their bodies is a promise, a guarantee that one day you will wake up and meet your intended, the person meant to love you the most, the person that belongs to you and to whom you belong to. That's fate.

For a shinobi, this is not so.

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I – Meimu Uchiha

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Uchiha Meimu receives her Soulmark when she is ten years old and masquerading as a chunnin of Iwa in Earth Country.

It curves around her left wrist, in a neat, black handwriting that is similar to her own. She wasn't wearing gloves that day, so her teammates (not her friends, never her friends, they are enemies, you're in enemy territory, _remember who you are_) are quick to catch sight of it.

"You will have to hide that Maiku," the leader of her squad says.

Maiku, because it sounds close enough to Meimu that she doesn't forget herself and because she's still new to this whole spy business and can't afford to make a single mistake. If she makes a mistake, she's dead.

The two other members of their team, both older than her, turn around and scowl. There is a burn mark on Reizo's ankle where the boy burnt his own Soulmark so that no one would be able to read it, and Kagawa is one of the lucky ones, for he is seventeen and does not have a Soulmate.

Meimu (Maiku, Maiku, you're Maiku now, don't forget it, if you do _you're dead_) nods and accepts the bandages her temporary comrade gives her, meticulously wrapping it around her wrist. When she gets back to the (not hers) village, she would go to the hospital and ask for the concealment seal.

Every Hidden Village had one of those. A seal painted over the Name that would turn invisible the moment the ink dried, only to resurface when the person activated the chakra storage in the seal. It was a procedure just shy of obligatory, where every shinobi above gennin rank was greatly recommended to do it. To anyone who wanted to become a jounnin or ANBU it was absolutely mandatory, no exceptions.

In order to survive, no ninja worth their salt would balk at the idea of using a person's Soulmate against them.

So Maiku gets back to Iwa, gets her concealment seal, gets out of the hospital and proceeds to kill her whole squad as she paves her way out of Earth Country.

Just because she has no intention of meeting her Soulmate doesn't mean that she will let anyone hunt him down to use their bond against her.

The name _Yagura_ curling around her wrist is one of the few things that is able to keep her grounded during her missions, even if she cannot see the words. She loves to trace them in the cover of night, away from eyes that are always watching her, waiting for her to slip up and outs her as a spy.

It is that mark on her wrist that reminds her that she's Meimu, not Maiku, not Nanashi, not Emiko or Chinatsu or Kaya. It is that mark that keeps her from burrowing herself too deep in her new mask, keeps the line of who she is and who she pretends to be clear and distinct inside her head.

She is _Meimu_, and the knowledge that there is someone out there with that name written on their skin is enough to remind her that she has a person waiting for her back in Konoha.

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Unfortunately, her Soulmate is not living in Konoha, but in a mist-clad island that embodies everything that is dark and bloody and horrible in the ninja world, and for the first time in her life, Meimu wants to forget that she belongs to the Uchiha, that she belongs to Konoha, forget that she is _herself_ and lose herself in her new mask, be Yukimura Shisui of Kiri instead. Be _Yagura's_ Shisui.

Only, she can't.

(And that hurts more than forgetting who she really is)

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II- Izumi Yagura

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Yagura is fifteen when a spot in his back begins to burn.

It startles him so much (it _burns_) that the newly promoted jounin doesn't know what to do. He's so at loss that he leaves his house in the middle of the night and appears in front of his sensei's office in the Mizukage Tower, confused out of his mind, out of breath and pathetically close to tears.

At first he thought it was his scar, acting up again after all these years, but Hiyasu-sensei is quick to reassure him. His master takes him to the hospital and the iryo-nin that attends to them laughs.

It is not a happy sound.

"Late bloomer, aren't you?" the man says, a bitter smile playing at the edges of his scarred mouth. "It is not your scar kid. It's your Soulmark."

Soulmark.

Yagura's shock must have been apparent on his face, because now both the iryo-nin and his sensei laugh at him, making him go red in the face and hurriedly put his shirt back on, concealing his new mark away from prying eyes.

In his defense, Yagura had every reason to be shocked. As a rule, a person will get their Soulmate's name before their eleventh birthday. There had been cases where they received it at twelve or even thirteen. But past that? Unheard of, to get a Name etched in the skin of their body at age fifteen.

But after the shock dissipated, fierce joy took its place. Yagura had a Soulmate. _He _had a _Soulmate_.

Every child grows up hearing about them, about how a Name will appear in some part of their body as they grow older, how that person is supposed to be the other half of your soul, the one being in existence capable of understanding and loving all of you.

Soulmate means family, acceptance, love. It means an unbreakable bond of friendship, of having a home to return to, someone to give your life for.

That's terribly romantic (and not in the good way), especially considering that Yagura has been a ninja for years now, but as Hiyasu-sensei likes to say, he has always been just a little too soft for a Kiri-nin.

For an orphan, especially one born and bred in the harsh streets of Kirigakure, Soulmate means everything when they have nothing else. And Yagura dreamed of having one since he was old enough to understand what the names etched in the skin of his peers and caretakers meant.

But he grew, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen. He grew up to reach his fifteenth birthday and any dreams of having a Soulmate were long forgotten by then.

Until now, that is.

He stands shirtless with his back facing the mirror, for once ignoring the giant scar that had almost cleaved him in two when he was eight years old, seeing his Soulmate's Name for the first time in his life.

_Meimu._

He feels slightly disappointed. He doesn't know anyone with that name, so they hadn't met yet. But it didn't matter. At least he had a name now, and he would always be searching for it every time he met a new person.

That night, Yagura dreams, his mind trying to conjure what appearance the other half of his soul might have. He didn't really care what she would look like, but for some reason, he knew she would be beautiful.

(He is not wrong)

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He meets Yukimura Shisui. He meets his Soulmate. Only, he doesn't know it yet.

(By the time he does, it is far too late)

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Yagura doesn't know what is worse. Discovering that the woman he loved, the woman who betrayed him, was his Soulmate...

Or discovering that she knew it all along and still left him behind, with a broken and bleeding heart and hating the name on his back as much as he loved it.

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III- Hoshigaki Kisame

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Kisame was one of the 'lucky' ones. He was born with the Name of his Soulmate already imprinted on his skin, the black elegant letters lovely marking the spot right over his heart. There was just one tiny, teeny, little problem.

Kisame didn't know how to read.

He never showed his Name to anyone else, no one ever taught him how to read and he wasn't smart enough to teach himself, so it kind of… slipped from his mind.

In his defense, he had other, more important things to worry about. Like surviving, for one.

Not many people cared about Soulmates in the streets. In a world where everyone (even your own gang) is just waiting to stab you in the back for a crumb of moldy bread, you can't bring yourself to trust anyone, not even your potential other half.

Kisame never saw the appeal of it all, anyway. He just couldn't understand why the grow-ups would bemoan the fact they hadn't yet found their Soulmates, why the women would sigh longingly whenever a bonded pair would pass them by, hand-in-hand.

For him, a Soulmate was a burden. It meant one more people to worry about besides himself, one more mouth to feed. He couldn't see what was so great about it.

And then he met a little girl with a riot of dark curls on her head and intense coral-pink eyes.

For the first time in his life, Kisame wanted to know what the name above his heart meant.

He wanted to know if it read Kurai.

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(It didn't)

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Kisame stared at the word _Shira_ with a sinking feeling in his heart. How could that be? He had been so sure, so certain that his Sukoshi's name would be the one branded in his skin. But no, it was another, a girl he hasn't met yet.

(And one he hoped he never would, because Soulmate or no Soulmate, he would never replace Kurai with another. Never.)

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It's not until years later, after he learns the truth behind his Sukoshi's family that Kisame once again thinks about the Name burned into the skin over his heart.

Even after discovering that, Kisame can't bring himself to like his Soulmark.

(Because it says _Shira_, a baby he never knew and never would, a baby that might as well never have existed. It is _Shira_ where it should be _Kurai_, where it should be _Sukoshi_, and Kisame _hates_ that his mark seems to ignore all those years they spent together as children, playing and dreaming and living at a river's bank)

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To his dying day, Kisame doesn't know if Kurai has his name burned in her skin.

He is strangely okay with not knowing.

(She was always his anyway)

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**AN: If you guys enjoyed this and would like to see other characters, just send me a review! For reasons, Kurai's story will be the last one I will post, so don't ask me to write about her.**


	4. Soulmates Part II

**Soulmates Part II**

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IV – Hatake Kakashi

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Kakashi is five years old and watching the cooling body of the man he called father when his Soulmark appears on his forearm.

He doesn't turn his head to look at it, doesn't even spares so much as a glance. He only keeps staring at the growing puddle of blood that has reached his bare toes. It feels strangely warm and sticky and Kakashi knew in that moment that he would become acutely familiar with the sensation of blood in his skin.

Surprisingly, Kakashi doesn't feel much of anything right now. It's like he's a rock, incapable of expressing his emotions. He's blank. There is a numbness inside him that leaves him cold and makes him act in autopilot.

Like he was taught in the Academy, Kakashi began the standard procedure, inspecting the body (it's a _bodybodybody_, not father, not Sakumo Hatake) to determine the cause and time of death (seppuku. His father committed suicide and there is this twisting feeling in his belly that makes little Kakashi want to vomit). He tries to clean as much of the blood as he is able to, trying to see the wound, but only ends up getting yet more dirty, so he stops.

For a moment he just stops.

(His body is beginning to shake, his eyes are burning with unshed tears and… and he can't, Kakashi _can't_-)

After that, Kakashi walks away from the body (not Sakumo, not father, not _father_), not noticing the red footprints that he leaves as he moves. He only makes a quick stop to gather some bandages to cover the new mark in his forearm. He doesn't look at it while he hides it away from the world.

He doesn't want to know.

Kakashi leaves his house, still in his night clothes and walks until he's standing in front of Namikaze Minato's apartment. There are very few people out in the street at this hour and the one who are still out and about don't notice the little boy who sticks to the shadows and keeps his head down.

He knocks on the door, and waits. It doesn't take long for his new sensei to appear, clad only in blue cotton pants and still looking a little sleepy. His face changes to an alarmed expression almost immediately when he spots the state of his apprentice.

"Kakashi?! What happened to you?"

Blinking his grey eyes, Kakashi speaks. His voice sounds flat, monotone and empty, devoid of even a hint of emotion. Much like how he is feeling inside.

"I would like to report a death. Hatake Sakumo, 36 years old, jounin of Konoha, committed seppuku at 2130, day fourteen of the month of May. Awaiting further instructions on how to proceed, Minato-sensei."

There is a shocked pause in which his sensei only stares at him, mouth slightly open and horror growing in his face as his sleep-deprived brain finally processes the words that have just left his apprentice's mouth.

Kakashi is five years old, and he has just lost a father he idolized and gained a Soulmate he didn't want.

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The boy spends his entire weekend alone trying to wash the blood out of the wooden tiles, even as Minato-sensei (now his official guardian) tries to get him out of the house.

His bandaged left forearm burns all the while.

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Kakashi is ten and not amused when he meets his teammates.

Nohara Rin is agreeable enough, he supposes. She acts a little like the girls that used to try to catch his attention during his brief time at the Academy, but is more focused in improving her iryo-ninjutsu than in trying to get him to go on a date with her. She is smart despite not being a genius, and knows how to follow orders and to prioritize the mission over her personal feelings, and that is something Kakashi can respect. As far as female teammates go, Kakashi could have done much, much worse than Rin.

What Kakashi can't even begin to accept however, is Uchiha Obito.

He is his class' dead last. He is loud, weak, has absolutely no control over his emotions and seems physically incapable of arriving on time once in his life. He doesn't even have the decency to formulate believable lies, which makes Kakashi add 'horrible liar' to the increasingly growing list of Obito's faults.

Honestly, what type of shinobi was he if he couldn't lie to save his life?

The fact that the boy also seemed to be interested in Soulmates also grated on Kakashi's nerves.

It makes him want to grab the Uchiha by the shoulders and shake him. Why would he ever want a Soulmate? Didn't he know that Soulmates were a weakness, that their marks could be used against them the moment someone else sees? That having a Soulmate meant nothing but pain?

His father had had two Soulmarks. One was for his wife and the other was for his best friend, a brother in all but blood. Kakashi's mother died when he was one year old and Sakumo's best friend turned his back on him after that mission even when his father aborted the operation in order to save the man's life. His father lost not one, but two Soulmates and that utterly destroyed him.

Kakashi swore that he would never let that happen to him. It didn't matter that he had a Soulmark, it wouldn't matter if he had more than one, he would never let them get close to him. He was a ninja and he would obey the Shinobi code, and the rules were very clear in the aspect of Soulmarks. They were to be hidden and preferably never to be thought about again.

Kakashi is ten and still has not seen his Soulmark.

He doesn't want to.

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(He is afraid to)

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Kakashi is thirteen, and his forearm and the eye that doesn't belong to him burn together.

He is sitting in his living room, writing up the report of _that mission_ until the words blur in his vision and Obito's eye drips tear after tear.

Obito has always been a crybaby after all.

Kakashi stands up, stumbling but still managing to reach the bathroom where he proceeds to shut himself in the shower and turn on the hot water until it's boiling hot and his whole body burns along with his forearm and that red eye.

Suddenly, he can't bear the sight of the white bandages he has worn since he was five years old and savagely rips them away, revealing a pale and unmarked patch of skin. Almost snarling, he all but obliterates the concealment seal that hides away his Soulmark, watching as black lines slowly (too, too slow for his taste) write themselves once again on his skin.

And then Kakashi's laughs. It's a hollow, hysterical and slightly mad sound, too broken to belong to any sane human being and Kakashi keeps laughing even when he cries and his skin turns red from the too-warm water pelting down on him.

He laughs, because this is just too perfect, too funny, too _terrible_ and _how did Kakashi not see this coming_?

The name _Obito_ is written in the Uchiha's messy chicken-scrawl, as if someone had handed a bush to a toddler and let them run wild with it on Kakashi's skin. It's the most beautiful and heart-breaking thing the Hatake has ever seen in his life and it makes him giggle that broken laugh all over again.

Kakashi is thirteen, and he has just lost the Soulmate he never knew he wanted until it was far too late.

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(And then he meets him again, during a battle that makes the Third Shinobi War of their youth look like child's play, and he has never felt so much love or grief in that moment)

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V - Nohara Rin

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Nohara Rin doesn't have a Soulmark.

And she accepts that just fine.

(She has never been comfortable with the idea of Soulmates anyway, because it sounded horribly like a she had no choice in who she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Rin is an independent kunoichi, she makes her own choices about who to love and no cosmic mark will say otherwise)

There are all sorts of nasty rumors about people without Soulmarks, how they are condemned to walk the earth with only half of their soul, never experiencing love to it's full capacity.

In Rin's opinion, that's just a load of bullshit.

Rin may not have a Soulmark, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't love. She knows she does.

She loves her family, despite despairing of their looks of pity whenever they looked at their unmarked daughter. She loves the hospital, that teaches her how to stich up a wound and how to save a life. She loves practicing her iryo-ninjutsu and knowing her teammates could count on her to heal their injuries.

She adores her team, who are her second home when she's away from the first.

She loves Minato-sensei, with his sky-blue eyes and yellow hair and gentle smile. She loves Kakashi, who despite saying he doesn't care, is always at full attention and prepared to lead them through the most difficult of missions, ensuring everyone gets out alive. She loves Obito, who is an charming idiot and perpetually late and always, always smiling, and perhaps that's the thing she loves most about him.

Rin loves, and she does not need a Soulmark to prove it.

And now, with Kakashi's hand burried in her chest and feeling her life quickly slip away from her grasp, Rin smiles, because she loves Minato and Kakashi and Obito, and if she were to have a Soulmark, she would need at least two different ones.

She would have spent the rest of her life beside her team, but the world doesn't work that way, not even where Soulmates and Soulmarks exist, and Rin accepts that.

Rin loves, and that is enough.

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**AN: Damn it, this got way too long. I was going to add Gai and Obito, but I think they will be better off in the next chapter. Any suggestion about which character you want me to write about after these two?**


	5. Cold Hell Part I

**Cold Hell**

**Summary: The life of Kaguya Hiyasu. The child he was, the things he did, the man he could have been, and the monster he ultimately became.**

**(_One doesn't have to be dead in order to be in Hell. Hiyasu knows this better than most men. He also knows that Hell is not a flaming pit that burns your soul for eternity._**

**_Hell is cold, and that may be worse than any fire._)**

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**WARNINGS: Minor character deaths, suicide, mention of torture, child abuse, domestic violence and other cannon-compliant warnings. Nothing too graphic, but if any of that bothers you or could possibly be a trigger, please don't read this.**

**Also, this is unedited, so beware grammar mistakes.**

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**Rei - ****冷**

**冷****: cool, cold (person), chill**

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It is night in Kirigakure, during its first blizzard of the season, and the snowflakes fall with a vengeance from the sky, painting the world below an almost violent white. The air is a collection of icy winds, and people huddle together in the back of alleys and inside their homes, hoping that come morning they wouldn't wake up to discover that they had lost a finger or a toe to the freezing cold.

It is in this night, in the dead of winter, that a baby is brought to this world, completely silent. He doesn't cry, doesn't scream, doesn't so much as give a twitch, and at first the midwife who holds him thinks that the boy is a stillborn.

(There is more than one person that night who wishes him dead)

But no, the baby is alive, if unnaturally still, and his own mother mourns that fact.

There is no wonder in the young woman's face as she holds her son close in the relative warmth and safety of her arms for the first time, and the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes are not of joy. When she passes him back to the midwife so she could rest from the hard labor, it is with the knowledge that there is no one else to hold him. No grandparents, no cousins or aunts or uncles. No father.

(There _is_ a father, or at the very least a husband, who is at the other side of the village getting shitfaced drunk. He couldn't be bothered to be present at the birth of a child that, according to rumors, might as well not be his)

The Clan regards the new addition to its ranks, at best, with cold indifference or wary acknowledgement, and at worst, with more than a little anger and disgust. Wagging tongues never cease to whisper the scandal and the mother's sheer indecency in the wake of the boy's birth.

He is born in a snow-painted world, to people whose hearts have been frozen and chipped away one piece at time by the winter winds, and thus is named accordingly.

This is the prologue to Kaguya Rei's life, and already it looks like an ill omen.

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"Why they look us that way mommy? I scared." It was said in the broken speech of a child barely out of his babyhood, big eyes looking up at his mother guileless.

"There's nothing to worry about, dear heart. They mean nothing. Just ignore them."

"Is what you do mommy?"

"Yes, Rei-chan. That's exactly what I do."

"Huh. Mommy?"

"What is it?"

He looks at her with the most serious face a boy of nearly three years can have. "You strong."

A pause, before "Do you want me to tell you a secret?"

"Yes!"

"I'm not strong Rei. I am really, really weak, and scared too. But even though I'm weak, I will still fight, because I have something to protect."

"Huh…? Protect?" the boy mouths the new word for a few seconds, before looking up again. "Protect what?"

The woman smiles at her son, a bittersweet turn of lips, but gentle nonetheless.

"My heart."

"I see…" he says, though he didn't really see. "Mommy?"

"Yes, love?"

"I still think you strong."

A gentle kiss is placed upon the boy's brow, and little Rei Kaguya wonders if the pleasantly warm feeling blooming in his chest is what his mother calls 'love'.

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At the tender age of three, Rei already shows a level of genius unmatched by his peers, that surpasses even the skill set of the Clan Head's own heir. Although weaker in body compared to other children his age, he has quick reflexes and a mind sharper than any blade. There is talk about enrolling him in the Academy soon, of him graduating even sooner. Hozuki Mū, one of the best candidates to the position of Mizukage after the Shodaime retires, already has voiced his interest in taking him as an apprentice once he becomes a gennin.

So he doesn't understand, despite his genius, why the Clan is not happy with him, why they never accept him. Why he is never invited to participate in clan training with the other children, why no one lets him come closer than twenty steps from Hiyasu, the Kaguya heir. He doesn't understand why his relatives call him names and whisper behind his back, doesn't understand the venomous looks Kiyomi-sama, the Clan Lady, send his way every time he is in her line of sight.

Rei doesn't understand why his father seems to despise him so much.

At the age of three, there is only one person who loves Kaguya Rei, and even she sometimes wishes he hadn't been born.

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Years pass, and Kaguya Umi looks at her precious son with tears in her eyes and despair heavy in her heart.

(Because he is a genius, and that gathers attention when it would be best and safer to fade in the background. Because he is so smart and beautiful and perfect and she can't hate him, can't resent him like she sometimes wants to. Because this is no life for a boy, even if he is a bastard child, and she regrets bringing him to this world that will forever look down on him for things out of his control)

Umi will never win her husband's forgiveness, her name will be forever spat and trampled on by the Clan and everyone else, but she can't bring herself to care, not when her baby boy is clinging to her kimono, big eyes begging for attention that she is helpless to deny.

"Whore," her clansmen call her, not even bothering to wait until she's out of earshot, and Kiyomi is always there, gleefully feeding the rumors to tarnish her reputation further. "Cheap harlot."

Some go so far as to call her traitor, for betraying Kiyomi-sama's trust and sleeping with her husband while being the woman's own first maid. And Umi knows better than to try to explain herself, knows that no one would believe her, no one would even hear her out. Not Kiyomi, not her family, not her husband.

No one would ever believe that she had said _no, stop_. No one would believe that tears fell from her eyes while a hand tore at her clothes and a heavy weight settled itself atop her, that she had whimpered, whispered _no, no, no, stop, please, Hideaki-sama, please _**don't**-

And if they did bother to listen, to believe, no one would do a thing, because who would dare to go against one of the most powerful men in Kirigakure, second only to the Shodaime himself?

The world is a cruel place and Umi knows better than to hope for a sun that will never come.

But in the end, the truly ironic thing in this whole catastrophic mess is that-

_She doesn't know who Rei's father truly is._

Her boy is practically her male twin, and while he doesn't share similarities with Hideaki, he also doesn't look like her husband Mado.

The uncertainty is enough to drive her half-mad by the time she gets pregnant again.

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Rei is five and cowering in the corner of the kitchen, forced to face his father's drunken rage. At five, he has already grown used to the looks and whispers that follow him every time he steps out of his house, though he understands it no better than when he was three and first noticed them, and fear is a familiar twisting snake coiling low in his gut, poisoning him from the inside out, making his body tremble and clouding his mind with panic.

Rei is a prodigy, wins every spar he takes part in, with his opponents often being older than him, but he is still so very, very young, only a small fraction of what he could be (what he _will_ be), and inexperienced to boot. Certainly no match against a chunin of Mado's caliber.

But even men like Mado tires of beating children that can't defend themselves properly, so he turns to his wife, who never made it past gennin rank before becoming one of the civilian members of the clan, but still knew how to dodge better than her son.

When little Rei sees the man he calls father beat the only person who ever showed him kindness, that made him believe in this invisible and elusive thing called love, he comes to a startling realization.

He hates his father.

It is then, after that glorious admission, which feels like a confession, like a weight that has been lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe again after what seems like years, that he first feels it.

(_Power_)

There is _something_ shifting inside his body, and never in his five years of life has he felt so alive or warm or aware. He is brimming, _burning_ with this new sensation moving under his pale skin, and the fire that is suddenly brought to life inside him burns away that snake named fear. He moves, but at the same time his body remains still, and it's not until he hears his mother screaming and sees Mado's shocked look while he tries to staunch the bleeding on his shoulder that he notices that what moved were his _bones_.

Rei is five when he unlocks the Shikotsumyaku. He is the first Kaguya in over ninety years to have the clan's bloodline limit.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, things don't get better after that.

(They get worse)

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This is proof, they say. Proof that Umi's brat really is Hideaki-dono's son.

How else would he have inherited the clan's coveted bloodline? Surely only the ruling family and its decedents could activate it?

(Everyone seemed to forget, or else choose not to remember, that Mado's great-grandmother was one of the three daughters of the last Clan Head who possessed the Shikotsumyaku, before she was disowned by her father for marrying a low-born branch clan member)

In the other hand, Hideaki-sama was pleased. Finally, after so long, there was a worthy child that could carry out his name, even if there was a chance, however small, of the boy not having come from his loins. He certainly had planned on adopting Rei regardless of that tiny chance, had his wife not put her foot down.

"_Hiyasu_ is your trueborn son, Hideaki. Your **heir**. _Not that woman's_ _bastard_," she spat, glaring hatefully at the bastard child in question, who is kneeling in front of them, his trembling mother at his side on the floor, belly huge with child again, but a comforting presence nonetheless.

Hideaki sends her an annoyed look, but waves his hand, dismissing his idea easily.

"Hiyasu will succeed me when he's ready. This boy here, he can be our son's bodyguard. Not even you, Kiyomi, can deny the wisdom and advantages of that."

The Clan Lady pursues her lips, obviously not seeing any of the more positive points of having her rival's offspring anywhere close to her own son, but keeps her silence. There are other, better ways to show how undeserving that whore's bastard is compared to her perfect Hiyasu.

That day, Rei leaves his home and parents behind, and gets the smallest room inside the Clan Head's family house, in the servants' quarters. The other workers tell him that the room used to belong to his mother when she still served under Kiyomi.

Come morning, he will finally participate in clan training with the other children, as well as share a private tutor with Hiyasu, the boy who is a few years older than him and whom Rei is told he is meant to serve and protect with his life. He will not have to share the same roof with Mado ever again, or have to listen to the slurred insults or endure the beatings in silence and compliancy, lest the man chooses to direct his ire towards his wife. He will get to see his mother during breaks from his studies when he leaves the house (Kiyomi-sama wouldn't take his mother back or allow her near her home) and maybe he will even get to see his younger sibling and play with them when they're born.

So why does he feels so hollow inside?

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Rei doesn't like Hiyasu. But that's fine, because it appears that Hiyasu hates his guts too.

"Okaa-san told me who you are, bastard boy," the clan heir sneers down at him, pristine white hair framing his face, which would be considered pretty if he wasn't currently scowling at Rei, with arms crossed over his chest. "You are dirt beneath my sandals."

Rei wonders if he should feel offended. He decides not to, because he has heard far, far worse from Mado.

"You will never be as good as me, hear that, bastard boy? So don't even try! Chichi-ue will never acknowledge you like he does me!"

Was he supposed to want Hideaki-sama's acknowledgement? People say he is his real father, and up to now he has treated Rei better than Mado ever did.

(Then again, it's hard for him to gauge that with certainty, since the man is never around. But absence is better than the abuse he suffered before, so Rei decides that yes, Hideaki-sama is a better father than his mother's husband)

Rei looks at the older boy, this kid who might be his half-brother (Rei is kind of hoping that that's true), and knows that any friendship or even a vague sense of kinship that might have formed between them had already been nipped at the bud, poisoned by Kiyomi's whispered words in his ear and fed by Hiyasu's own fear of being replaced by someone stronger, someone better than him, which Rei undoubtedly knows he is.

But his might-be-father gave him a mission of protecting this boy, so he would do that despite the growing animosity between them, and hope that that would be enough to get Hideaki-sama's attention.

(He has always wanted a father after all. A _good_ one.)

He should have known, that in this world there are only weapons, meant to be wielded by their superior's hands, and when the time came that they lost their edge, they would be tossed aside like trash, without hesitation, without grief.

And that the Kaguya, especially its Clan Leader, only ever saw him as a weapon.

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"Kill him," Hideaki orders, pointing at the trembling man kneeling at his feet.

Rei has been living with the main family for some weeks now, and knows enough to be aware that no one asks a boy of five to kill another man, at least not when they haven't even entered the Academy yet.

But the Kaguya always liked to do things their own way, and damn anyone else's expectations. It was a wonder that they survived the time of the Warring Clans, with the amount of toes they had stepped on while doing whatever they pleased.

"Why?" Rei makes the mistake to ask.

He is punished, of course, a sharp slap to the face that throws him to the floor.

"It's not your place to question me. You only need to obey."

_Why?_, he wants to ask again, but he has learned his lesson. Two clan members hold the soon-to-be-dead man down while Rei flexes his arm. Slowly, almost excruciatingly so, a white tip can be seen worming its way out of his skin, and then he is holding a crudely shaped sword made of his own bone.

It's a macabre display of power, further proven when the man sentenced to die watches him with disgusted, terrified eyes.

"Monster," he whispers, just before Rei plunges the bone sword in his throat. He gurgles, rivers of red erupting from the wound and falling to the ground. His fellow clan members let go of him, allowing the dying man to fall in the growing puddle beneath him, twitching while drowning in his own blood.

A hand falls on Rei's head, petting his hair gently. He looks up.

Hideaki-sama gives him a (fake) smile. "Good job."

He thinks the glowing feeling inside him can be called pride. It's not warm like the feeling he feels around his mother, but makes him smile anyway. Is this what it means to have a father?

"_You only need to obey."_

(Behind Hideaki, Kiyomi's face looks carved out of marble as she grips her son's shoulder with sharp talons and brings him closer to her. Hiyasu looks at his stone-faced mother, at his pleased father, and growls at Rei)

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"Rei-chan, this is Natsu-chan."

Natsu, named after the summer and warm days of sunbathing on the shores of Water Country's beaches. Natsu, six months old and smiling brightly up at his older brother. Natsu, who is the opposite of Rei in every sense of the word.

"He is you baby brother, Rei-chan."

His baby brother, who looks so painfully like Mado, the way Rei is the miniature version of Umi, only without a single angry scowl aimed his way or bitterness marring his soft baby face.

"Will you take care of him for me, Rei?"

He looks up at his mother, looks at her tired, defeated and wild eyes, the type of wildness that one sees in a person that has been driven to the edge one too many times and is a few scant seconds away from jumping. He hears the unspoken words that don't leave past Umi's lips.

_Will you take care of him? Because I don't think I can. Not anymore._

_("Look at that woman, pregnant again. I wonder who the father is this time. Certainly not her husband, that poor man. Does she have no shame?"_

…

"_I'm not strong, Rei")_

And Rei nods, carefully balancing a cheerful toddler on his lap and watching as the mad glint in their mother's eyes disappeared briefly to be replaced by that soft, warm look Rei thinks can be described as love-

And then the front door is thrown open and Mado barrels inside, howling at Rei to get out.

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A year passes. He is six.

There is this thing the older generation is calling the First Shinobi War.

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Mado dies in the beginning of the war, during a mission which purpose was to test Kumo's borders. Rei doesn't cry. That's true. He doesn't even care. That's… nearly true.

(_He is lying, lying, __**lying**__-_)

His mother does. She sheds enough tears for both of them and little Natsu, who is one year and a half old and doesn't understand what is going on. To be truthful, Rei doesn't understand too. Why was his mother sad? Shouldn't she be happy, or at least relieved, that her abusive husband was gone at least, and would never again lay a hand on her?

"Why?" he asks her, seeing her bent form crying over that man's grave.

"He was my husband. He was cruel, but he was my husband and I loved him anyway."

There was that word again. Love.

What is love?

Looking at Umi, Rei can't help but think that love is a weakness he is better off without.

(But it feels so warm when he's with his mother and Natsu. How can something so good ever hurt so much?)

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"Are you sad over Mado's death?"

Rei looks up from where he was stretching on the ground, preparing himself to a taijutsu spar with other children from the clan. Hideaki Kaguya stared back at him with sharp grey eyes, patiently waiting for his answer.

He shakes his head. "No, Hideaki-sama."

There's enough truth in that statement to not be a lie, and it seems to please the Clan Head.

"Continue your training then, boy."

Later that night, he finds a new blanket in his room, tucked carefully under his pillow. That's the first time he realizes the benefits he will reap if he keeps pleasing Hideaki-sama.

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He is eight and Hideaki wants to step up his training. He is led to one of the Kaguya's secret hidden spots that are used for important clan meetings, and there is a man chained to the wall in the far corner of the basement.

The man is a spy, an intruder, he is told. He tried to sneak in in the compound to steal their secrets.

"Make him pay, boy," Hideaki-sama tells him.

He obeys, and knows that this will not be the last time he is ordered to do this.

(He is right)

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Rei finds out later that he likes the sound of his victims' screams. If they scream, then that means he is doing something right. And if he does something right, then that will please Hideaki-sama.

A pleased Hideaki means extra blankets to ward off the cold, or a new set of kunais to train with, or an extra serving of food for dinner. Maybe, if he is particularly good, he will even get a pat on the head and some praise.

(He is a dog kept on a short leash and it takes him longer than he likes to admit to figure that one out)

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Rei flies through the Academy, barely spending three months in there before he's out again, Kiri headband tied around his forehead and apprenticed under Hozuki Mū at eight years of age. Hiyasu doesn't graduate yet, and that can be another one of the myriad of reasons of why they hate each other. Just one more drop of water in an already long overflowed glass.

His sensei is an eccentric man with a peculiar sense of humor, who likes to turn his body into water only to pop out of a puddle at unfortunate times in order to scare his new student.

Mū-sensei is a splash of normalcy and lightness in his usually dark and chaotic world, and the boy doesn't know if he should adore or resent the man for it.

(Adore him for giving him a taste of what it would be like to have a true father. Resent him for the same reason.

You can't miss what you never had to begin with, right?)

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Something changes. A tip on the scale of a balance Rei tried desperately to keep stable; the change is sudden and unexpected, leaving him gaping while grasping at straws that have long since slipped away from his hands.

The silent battle he waged against Kiyomi and Hiyasu has always been a cold war. And now…

Now it wasn't.

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Rei loves Natsu. He loves him like he loves the air he breathes. He doesn't realize he was so important to him until the toddler's gone.

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"I'm sorry for your loss."

He doesn't know who said that. It could have been Hiyasu, arrogant smirk firmly in place, or Kiyomi, a superior look in her eyes while glaring at him from under her dainty nose. It could have been anyone, really.

He doesn't care. He only has eyes to the tiny coffin being lowered in the cold, hard earth.

A victim of a surprise attack arranged by enemies of the village, trying to deal a heavy blow to one of the best clans of Kirigakure. They couldn't evacuate all the children to a safe place fast enough, and Natsu just happened to be the one unfortunate kid who had been lost in the middle of battle.

Or so they said. Rei has long ago learned to stop believing in every word that the clan says.

The boy instead searches for his mother, and finds only an empty shell in her place.

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"_I'm not strong, Rei."_

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He wishes he could be surprised when he goes to visit Umi one day, only to find a body hanging from the rafters and a note saying '_Forgive me'_.

He really wishes he could.

(In reality, the only thing that surprises him is that she lasted this long)

His birthday was that day. He is nine now.

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There are a total of 206 bones in an adult human's body. In a child, there can be up to 300.

And Rei can feel _each._ _one._ _of._ _them_.

Always moving, twisting, and shifting under the layers of his skin and muscles, relentlessly and sometimes even without his consent. All of this power housed inside him, ready to be used at a moment's notice, his body a veritable arsenal of lethal weapons… It's an incredible feeling, maddening sometimes, and completely awe-inspiring.

It's frightening.

Or so most of his clansmen think. They keep him at arm's length, never trusting him farther than what they could throw him, praising his skills and little else. That makes the boy wonder is the only thing he is good for is killing. A shinobi born and bred, or maybe more like a sword, to be taken out to the battlefield when needed and then hung on the wall to gather dust until the time came it was needed again.

Out of sight, out of mind, and all of that.

_It's this all I am?_ the child thinks as he looks at the corpse at his feet, one more person to add to his body count. _It's this all I can be?_

For the first time since moving to the Main House in the Kaguya compound, Rei thinks,

_I don't want to be the weapon._

_I want to be the one who wields the weapon._

_I want _more_._

There are nearly 300 hundred bones in his body. Its three hundred weapons at his disposal, tools he can use without restriction. With that kind of power, who would ever be able to stand in his way?

_I want __**more**__._

Rei has always been a little too greedy for his own good.

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It was pathetically easy to kill Hiyasu. One had to wonder if they just didn't care about the Clan Heir's safety.

Oh, he had been careful, of course. It wouldn't do to get caught murdering Hideaki's firstborn son after all, useless though the boy was.

Rei had thought of many, many ways he could kill his half-brother. Pushing him down the stairs, holding his head down under water, strangling him in his bed in the dead of night, slip a kunai between his ribs and watch him bleed to death.

In the end, he chose the easiest way and the least likely to be traced back to him.

Poison.

The women's favorite weapon and a kunoichi's best friend. It wasn't overly difficult to slip a little something he had picked up during one of his missions outside the borders. He began by slipping a little into the boy's dinner every night. Just a little, to test the waters.

He had to be careful in how much and for how long he could do this, Hiyasu could end up building a resistance to it after all or Rei could miscalculate and cause a sudden and suspicious overdose. But when it became clear that everyone, including the boy himself, thought the clan heir only suffered from a mild fever, Rei knew that he could go all out.

Before the week is over, the Kaguya Clan loses its Heir.

Kaguya Hiyasu, twelve years old and about to graduate from the Academy, dies on the thirteenth of July, on a Friday evening. The reason behind his death was a fever that had gone out of control too quickly for the clan medics to treat.

How sad.

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"Rei," the name is said in a considering tone of voice, as if the speaker doesn't know for certain what it was supposed to sound like. Or maybe he knew, but didn't like how it sounded to his ears.

From his spot three steps behind the leader, Rei perks up. "Hideaki-sama?"

Not father, never father. For all intents and purposes, he is son of no one.

"That is such a common name, don't you think? I can think of at least five other Reis, and that is only within the clan…"

The sense of unease is rapidly squashed before it can take root. Rei licks his lips. "It's the name Okaa-san gave me, sir."

"A common name. Not befitting of a Clan Heir."

Rei stops in his tracks, hardly daring to believe the words that left the Clan Head's mouth. Tentatively, he asks "Heir, Hideaki-sama?"

The man stops, looking down at him with shrewd and calculating grey eyes, hidden beneath bangs of white hair, before smiling delightedly, as if he was a painter who looked upon his greatest masterpiece and could not find a single imperfection.

And,

There was something terribly knowing in the man's eyes when he looked down at him.

"It seems so. Hiyasu was a good one, very talented but… I suppose it was my fault, I allowed his mother to baby him for far too long."

_Is this why you let me kill him and get away with it? Because Hiyasu was not your ideal heir but I am? Will you dispose of me as well if I don't live up to your expectations?_

_Will you, _father_?_

"Hiyasu. _You_ will be Kaguya Hiyasu from now on. It was the name of my father. A proud, strong man. Make sure to grow up and honor his memory, ne Hiyasu-kun?"

_No_, Rei thinks. _This is not what I want_.

But it is, isn't it? Hadn't he wished for acknowledgement? For the power he would have if he was the heir? Hadn't he hungered for it under the covers of his flimsy and hard bed in the servants' cold quarters while Hiyasu slept warm and peacefully in his grand bedroom with a pillow of swan feathers under his royal head?

_I didn't want to lose myself in the way_, he thinks, but stays silent, because really, what is a normal, _common_ name, given by a woman stricken with grief and already tattering on the edge of the abyss, compared to all the power and privilege he now had within his grasp?

What was a name, compared to a whole future?

(_Rei, Rei, my name is _Rei_, that's what mommy called me-_

_Why doesn't anyone listen?_)

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"Do you have any dreams, Hi-kun?" Mū-sensei asks, when they are refreshing near a river that cuts through Training Ground 13, after a long spar. The man began to call him by that name at the boy's insistence, though he didn't look happy while doing it, so he had found ways to shorten it.

But it wasn't the nickname that gave him pause. Hiyasu thinks about the words for a long moment, which causes the silence to stretch and he doesn't know how to fill it.

Dreams? He had some, years ago. One of them was that Mado would stop hating him and they could be one happy family. Another was that his mother would be strong enough to live for him, if not for herself. One other was that Hideaki would have adopted him straight away, without having to test his limits and worth every single day.

(Now he knows that none of them will ever come true. That's why they are called dreams, and Hiyasu doesn't see the benefit of having them anymore)

"It's okay," Mū-sensei tells him, eyes closed while his legs kick idly around the water, creating waves that manage to drench small Hiyasu to the tip of his white-blue hair down to his sandaled toes, much to the boy's annoyance. "You're still young. You have a lot of time to find a good dream. Maybe you will have one by the time we get you some other teammates."

Hiyasu hopes fervently that that day never comes.

For the first time in years he has something –someone- that belongs wholly to him, apart from his mother and Natsu, who are already dead and buried. He does not have to share Mū-sensei with anyone, and Hiyasu is not ready or willing to lose that yet. Maybe never.

(So of course, the day comes sooner than he would have liked)

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He is twelve and grumpy during the whole affair, until he gets a good look at the smile his female teammate gives him.

For the first time in years, Rei has a dream.

(And this one, he vows, will come true)

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"Marry me someday."

"Was that a question?"

"Did it sound like one?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

"You know how much I dislike being told what to do. Just because of that, I won't marry you."

"Cruel. That's one of the reasons I like you," It was said in a teasing tone, smile curling at the edges of a mouth.

An eyebrow was raised above pink eyes, shinning with mirth. "Are you a masochist."

There was a tilt of the head. "Was that a question?"

"Did it sound like one?"

"No."

"There's your answer right there."

And they laughed.

(They were young then, still believing they had the whole world at their fingertips, and all the time in it to do what they wanted.

…

They didn't.)

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**end of part I**

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**AN: I had this gathering dust inside my computer for months, so I decided to share it with you guys as an apology for not being able to update **_**Dark Waters**_** yet. And no, before anyone ask, I'm still stuck with real life problems, so an update on that story might not be possible for quite a few weeks yet. I hope you guys can understand, 'cause I really, really want the chance to sit down and just write away for my heart's content, but that is simply **_**not possible**_** right now.**

**As for what you've just read, well, I received a pm from one of my readers that asked if I was willing to expand more about the past of my Sandaime Mizukage of **_**Dark Waters**_**, Hiyasu Kaguya, and since I had this lying around, I thought why the hell not. This is unedited and unbetaed, so I'm pretty sure there is some glaring mistakes in it. Tell me so I can fix it later. I just really wanted to post something. Anything would do, at this point.**

**If enough people like this, I'm willing to continue. Part II will come out this weekend, me thinks, but no promises.**

**Oh, and before I forget, the kanji for 'Rei' (****冷****) is the same one used in the name 'Hiyasu'. Just decided to add that tidbit of information for anyone interested.**


	6. Soulmates Part III

**Soulmates Part III**

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VI – Maito Gai

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Gai is ten, just one day before his eleventh birthday, and preparing himself to live in a war when his Soulmark appears.

He is in the middle of his warm-up, doing his nine eighth push-ups when he sees the black lines slowly write themselves just below the knuckles of his right hand. The boy gives a cry of surprise from the burning sensation that causes him to falter and fall flat on the grass of his training field.

He scrambles to his feet, letting out a joyous shout as he marvels at the new mark on his hand, before hastily covering it with the spare bandages Genma had given him as an early birthday gift. He goes straight to the hospital to get the concealment seal, and then returns to his training.

Gai is one day away from eleven, and he must train hard if he wants to survive long enough to meet his Soulmate.

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Gai is older now, just turned thirteen, and knows what it means to live in fear. He has known it for years now, living in a battle camp with his teammates and sensei, with only brief breaks that would be given to them, all few and far between.

Years have passed, and he has not met his Soulmate yet.

(_The only thing he has met is blood and death, corpses sprawled everywhere around him, his hands crimson and shaking, __**red**__ from crushing too many skulls to count._

_One does not receive the nickname of __**Beast**__ without reason_)

Every day he spends in Konoha he goes to the information board, scanning the latest list of shinobi that are dead or missing in action, letting out a sigh when he doesn't see his Soulmate among them. Gai is lucky, not like the poor kunoichi standing beside him, tears falling from her eyes as she catches sight of her Soulmate's name in the paper of confirmed dead people.

That night, he dreams of finding the name of his own Soulmate written in that list of lost ninjas, and he wakes up at 2 a.m., covered in cold sweat and terrified out of his mind. He does his best to smile as wide and bright as he can the next morning during training, and if his usual shouts about youth seems a tad too forced, a little too tremulous around the edges, then his team doesn't comment on it. They all know the chances of them surviving this war are slim.

Gai is thirteen, and he fears that he won't live long enough to meet the person whose name he bears on his hand.

(Or that he will, but his Soulmate won't)

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Gai is fourteen, and the Third War is over, but he still stands among bodies, this time inside his own village, in the wake of a tailed beast more monstrous than he ever managed to be in the battlefield.

He cries when he finds out that his Soulmate was not one of the dead and wonders how one person can be as lucky as he is.

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"Do you ever wonder about your Soulmate, Kakashi?"

A pause in which Kakashi shrugs, looking up briefly from behind his orange book. "Maa, I don't think about it much."

That was a lie, if Gai ever heard one. But he knows his silver haired friend too well to press for more details.

(Besides, he's not sure he wants to know. Not when it comes to Kakashi.)

"I would like to meet my Soulmate. How do you think they will look like Kakashi? I bet that when we finally meet they will be burning brightly with the flames of eternal youth! What says you, Kakashi?"

"… Sorry, did you say something?"

"SO COOL! I WILL BREAK YOU OUT OF THIS ICE KAKASHI! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A RACE!"

"Maa, alright. On the count of three then. One, two…"

"THREE!" Gai shouts, launching himself in the air.

It is only one minute later, when Gai is already at the other side of Konoha, that he realizes Kakashi never left his spot.

"NOT YOUTHFUL!"

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Soulmarks don't tell you the people you're supposed to marry. The bond between Soulmates doesn't necessarily need to be a romantic one. That's why there are children born with their parent's name, and siblings who are each other's Soulmates.

It still takes a while for Gai to come to terms with the fact that his Soulmate is thirteen years younger than him, his apprentice that might as well be his adopted son. He does come to terms with it eventually, and he can say with absolute certainty he would not want anyone else as his Soulmate.

(The name _Lee_ seems to burn over his knuckles while he watches the boy fail miserably at the Academy, but still stand up again and again, ignoring the jeers and ridicule of his classmates. And in that moment, Gai knows that no one else could ever come closer to being his soul's other half)

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Gai is twenty-six and has finally found his Soulmate. The blood-coated nightmares don't vanish completely, but it's easier to shake them off when he meets his team waiting for him at their training ground, or wake up to see Lee standing in front of his door, ready to complete their morning laps around the village, eyes burning with his indomitable Will of Fire that could match Gai's own.

_It_ _matches_ _his_, and maybe that's why they are Soulmates in the first place.

Gai is twenty-six, and happy.

(Which is more than can be said about others)

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VII – Uchiha Obito

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The Uchiha Clan doesn't like Soulmarks.

People outside the Clan say it is because the Uchiha don't believe in Soulmates, or they do, but are so cold and ruthless that they will sooner forsake their other half than to even admit that they exist. They don't have enough feelings to care, people say.

People outside the Clan are wrong.

The terrible, terrible truth is that the Uchiha did believe in Soulmates. And they are terrified of them.

Because the Uchiha Clan is proud, and the idea of having a Soulmate that doesn't match with clan's expectations and high standards is a hard blow to that brittle pride of theirs. Because they are ninjas, a line of business that earned them no small amount of enemies and the other half of their _soul_ could be wandering around out there, unprotected and defenseless. And because the Uchiha are cursed, cursed to love so completely, so utterly, that they were consumed by it, a fire blazing bright and hot inside their hearts, and when it finally went out (_and it would, it always would, as long as war and death existed and peace was only an unattainable dream_), there would be nothing left inside them but ashes and a black hole where their hearts used to be.

They are so terrified that they could end up like that -a living, breathing corpse that had no heart or soul to speak of, hollow except for the madness and hate slowly growing inside them- that they go out of their way to avoid meeting their Soulmates.

In the times of the Warring Clans, it was a common practice amongst shinobi, and especially among the Uchiha, to burn away your Soulmark the moment it appeared on your skin. Most didn't even look at the Name before it was burned away.

But Obito always defied expectations and tradition, and it should have surprised no one when he turned out to be different in the matter of Soulmarks as well.

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Uchiha Obito isn't like the rest of his family. In fact, one had to wonder sometimes, looking at the clumsy, weak boy, how the hell he was even remotely related to the cold and powerful clan of dōjutsu-users.

Obito is kind and gentle and happy. His heart is bright and burning with a Will that should be far too big for such a small body, but in reality seems to fit right in.

And unlike the rest of his cousins, Obito wants a Soulmate.

He _wants_, like he has never wanted anything before, not even the title of Hokage or his family's acknowledgement, wants with all his heart and soul. He wants so much that he feels like he's going to explode in tears when the burning sensation of a person receiving their Soulmark radiates from his right shoulder. He _does_ burst in tears when he stands in front of a mirror and sees his Soulmate's name for the first time.

The name is simple and short. A common name, and all the more beautiful for it.

_Rin._

He knows it's her the moment she turns her big brown eyes at him, warm and inviting, handing him the paper he missed when he arrived late for the Academy's entrance ceremony.

It's love at first sign.

For him, at least.

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Rin is a Blank. A person without a Soulmark.

That's not fair.

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He meets Minato-sensei. He meets Hatake Kakashi.

This time, his left shoulder is the one to burn.

Obito stares at the name writing mockingly on his skin, in a precise, elegant penmanship he remembers vaguely from mission reports the silver haired bastard handed to their superiors with something akin to betrayal in his face.

That can't be. It's impossible. He already has a Soulmate. He has _Rin_.

But, he doesn't really, does he?

_No_, Obito thinks, screams inside his mind. _No_.

He doesn't want the bastard; he wants Rin, and only Rin.

Or that's what he tells himself, even while standing in front of his bathroom mirror, reverently tracing the lines that form the names of the two most important people in his life.

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Obito is an unpredictable child. It shouldn't surprise anyone that he comes to love that second mark as fiercely as he does his first.

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For a time, Obito doesn't know how to approach his teammates about his Soulmarks, not least because he has no idea how they will react. Or rather, he does know how they might take his words and…

Well, he's more than a little scared.

Rin, he knows, would accept the fact that she is his Soulmates rather easily. She might apologize for being a Blank (not that it is her fault, never her fault, she didn't chose that), and she wouldn't reject him outright. She would smile and say she is honored and continue their life and relationships exactly the way it was, if not a little closer. And even if she does happen to reject him, though the chances of that happening are low, she would never shun him.

But Obito can't say that she would see him as anything more than a best friend either.

Unfortunately for him, he can't even say that much about Kakashi. Obito knows well what the silver haired prodigy thinks of him and doesn't want to tempt fate more than he already has. Hell, he can't even say if Kakashi does have a Soulmark, or whether or not that it his name. The bastard is always so tight-lipped about that, you would think he is a Blank.

And wouldn't that be ironic? Two Soulmates, and not one of them carries his name on their skin.

He can already hear what his clan would say if they discover his predicament: As expected of a failure like Uchiha Obito. Not even his Soulmates want him.

Is he a coward for not saying anything? Yes, he knows he is, but still, better to stay quiet for a little while longer, just so that he can think on how to best approach the rather delicate subject. Besides, is not like they are going all to die tomorrow, right?

He has plenty of time yet.

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Three days later, they leave Konoha for Kanabi Bridge.

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After hours of darkness, of agony, fear and tears and _somuchpainsomuchpleasestopplease!_, he wakes up in a cave with an old man claiming to be Uchiha Madara and some other humanoid figures he is more than sure are _not_ human.

He wakes up, to find that the name _Rin_ is gone, along with the left side of his body, leaving him feeling bare and incomplete.

That, more than anything else that has happened, more than the crippling pain, the missing eye, the ugly scars that twist his face and half of his body, is what makes him cry.

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Obito treasures the _Kakashi _on his right shoulder with attentiveness that some would call alarming. But he can't bring himself to care because he has already lost one Soulmark, he won't lose another. He wants out of this bed, out of this dark cave. He wants to go back to his village, to his team, his Soulmates. He wants to kiss Rin and hug Kakashi and take off his shirt to show them his marks- _mark_, there is only one now in the disastrous patchwork he calls his body- and it takes everything he has to not start counting down the seconds it will take until he is strong enough to stand on his own two feet and see them again.

Then Zetsu bursts into the cave, and the only things Obito sees and hears is _Rin _and _danger _and _blood._

And then there is chaos.

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(There is madness)

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He wants to hate Kakashi. He wants to tear at the mark carefully inked on his right shoulder, want to rub at it until it's _gone_. He wants to take a kunai and slice off that patch of skin branded with _that man'_s name.

But Obito… can't.

Because if he can't have Rin, and can't have Kakashi, then who is left? He will be alone again, like he has been for so long before Team Seven, and he has already lost so much, too much, Obito can't lose Kakashi too, he _won't-_

Madara speaks of a true world. A perfect one. One where there is no pain or loss or death. A world where he can have both Rin and Kakashi at his side, and this time…

This time Obito turns around and listens.

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Obito was blessed with two Soulmates. He was denied the chance of ever being with either one of them. Is it so wrong to want to have that chance? Is it so wrong to want to see Rin (without a hole in her chest, without blood and pain) and to speak with Kakashi (speak, for once, not fight or bicker or insult each other) again? Is it so wrong that he wants to fall asleep between these two amazing people at the end of a long, hard day of training, snuggle up to Kakashi's body heat (for such a cold bastard, he's always warm) and wrap his arms around Rin's soft stomach?

In the way he goes about it, yes, maybe it is, Obito can admit this much, but he is too far gone in pain and grief to care or listen to that voice that sounds suspiciously like Rin, yelling at him to _stopturnbackstopplease__**stop**_.

He can't stop now though. Obito has done too much to stop now. The only option left is moving forward; even when _forward_ is nothing more than a mad man's lie and a desperate one's illusion.

(He just wants to feel whole again. Is that too much to ask for?)

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**AN: … God, writing this was like pulling teeth. I think I completely butchered Obito and Gai's characters, but… better than nothing, right? Who do you want to see up next?**

**For those of you that read **_**Dark Waters**_**, I am currently caught in my studies, so it will take a while longer for the next chapter to come out, but no worries! It **_**will**_** come out. Eventually.**

**Reviews?**


	7. Concerning the Nature of Souls

**Concerning the Nature of Souls**

**Summary: "It hurts, Elyse," she finally bites out, three years old and straining against a bond that was being stretched almost to the limit, with hands clenched at her sides and sweat rolling down her temple. Elyse, this time in the form of a coyote, whines at the pain, but keeps pushing on. "Come on, Kuro, just a bit more. I can almost reach the tree." Daemon!AU**

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Being a ninja means being ready to sacrifice, all to the village that you swore loyalty to. Your body, your heart, your will… even your own soul. That's why in Kiri, and in every other Hidden Village, they recruit young, while the daemon is still unsettled, so that the dreaded ritual of Separation won't be as traumatic as it could be between an adult pair. There are steps leading up to the ritual, teachers at the Academy encouraging the children to try and stretch the bond as much as they could. Separation then would usually occur as the last test an Academy student had to undergo before being allowed to call themselves gennins.

But of course, it's hard and frightening to have to do these things. Separation is a long drawn-out process that is painful and, in the civilians' eyes, cruel, with very little rewards at the end. You and you daemon will be able to put miles upon miles between you. So what?

The civilians didn't understand just how much of a weakness their daemons could pose in the middle of a mission or battle. It is taboo for someone to touch another person's daemon, but what if your opponent in willing to break it? The Sage knows there are enough sick bastards in the world willing to try it. A good chunk of them lived in Kiri, a village well-known for its brutality when it came to Separating gennin hopefuls from their daemons. In fact, it was in the Bloody Mist that the word _Intercision_ was first whispered, and other, even more inhumane practices like _tearing_, still existed.

It is in this constant fog of terror, paranoia and brutality that a pink-eyed girl and her daemon differ from the others. Unlike the other children in the orphanage, they seem to be almost _eager_ to get away from each other.

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Nami, the matron of Kiri's Orphanage, knew that the girl was going to be trouble since she and her daemon were dragged to her doorstep, dripping yet, shivering in the cold night air and yelling loud enough to wake up the whole village.

For one, the man's otter daemon, who had been the ones to find and rescue them from the beach, was wrestling with a wolf pup, trying to convince the newborn daemon to stay quiet and still. When she tried to place the pup among the blankets covering his human, naturally thinking that the proximity would make both baby and daemon calm down, it only earned her a swipe to the snout, which caused the otter to let go of him.

And then the wolf pup, the baby's physical representation of her _soul_, turned around and _ran away_.

_As if trying to get away from his human._

The matron Nami had never before seen anything like it, and judging by the way her dormouse daemon, Yoshi, buried his little paws on her shoulder in fright and confusion, neither did he.

Even when it was clear that the bond between them had already been stretched to the limit, the wolf pup kept trying to push the boundary further, as if deaf to the pain, the longing and the baby's wails. It was bizarre to watch. Unnatural.

Finally, the otter daemon caught up to the little hellion and dragged him back, ignoring the howling and snarling.

"She's been doing this since the moment we found them," the fisherman told her gruffly, handing her the baby with a relieved face. Probably thinking something along the lines of 'not my problem anymore'.

Nami blinked. She? Was the girl's daemon a… female too?

If so, then one more thing to set them apart from the rest. Not that it was rare to have a daemon of the same sex, but considering what Nami and Yoshi has just bear witness to, it would probably just aggravate the problem.

And so it was that Nami stood there, holding a screaming baby and a howling daemon, with Yoshi using her hair to hide from the girl's wolf, and wishing desperately to call back the fisherman and try to convince him and his otter to take them back.

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The pink-eyed girl's earliest memory is of Elyse, her daemon, teaching her how to say her name.

"Repeat with me. E-ly-se."

"E-ri-su," her one year old self repeats with difficulty, brow furrowed in concentration, trying and failing to get accustomed to the way her daemon voices her strange name. Yoshi, Nami's dormouse, tried to name Elyse something easier on the tongue when they had first arrived in the orphanage, only for Elyse to snap and almost attack the poor mouse.

"They won't change my name," Elyse had growled to her one day when she asked. "No one will ever change my name. They won't change who I am."

"You mean… they won't change who _we_ are… right?"

Elyse doesn't answer.

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"What is my name?" the child asks her daemon one day. They are sitting under the shade of the Orphanage backyard's only tree, after Elyse turned into a polar bear and scared away the other orphans. The girl didn't mind, she liked her solitude. The others and their daemons were stupid anyway, always teasing Elyse for having an obviously foreigner name and the girl for having none.

Elyse, back to her preferred wolf form, sat back on her haunches and looked at her. "Why do you care? You can have any name you want. It doesn't matter for me."

But it should. And that's the problem. Elyse should care, but she doesn't. Sometimes the girl has to wonder if she is really her daemon. She looks at the other children, sees how they interact with their souls, and can't help but feel a spark of envy. She wants that closeness with Elyse. But the only thing her daemon seems to want is to put more and more distance between them.

"Do you have any idea?" the girl asks her wolf, almost imploringly.

Elyse must have noticed how close to breaking down she was, because, in a rare and unusual show of affection, she shuffled closer, nosing the girl's cheek and giving one quick lick before retreating.

"What about Kuro? It means black, doesn't it? You can call yourself that until we find a name you like well enough to keep."

And the girl –Kuro- smiles brightly, because it's the first time Elyse said the word 'we', as if they are a unit, a single entity, as if they really are human and daemon.

And slowly, shyly, she dares herself to hope they are.

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"It hurts, Elyse," Kuro finally bites out, three years old and straining against a bond that was being stretched almost to the limit, with hands clenched at her sides and sweat rolling down her temple.

Elyse, this time in the form of a coyote, whines at the pain, but keeps pushing on. "Come on, Kuro, just a bit more. I can almost reach the tree."

They are in the backyard again, in the middle of the night so that no one sees what they are doing. While it is advised for children who plan on becoming shinobi to experiment with stretching the bond between them and their daemon, it has to be under the rigorous supervision of an adult. It is to make sure that the children don't hurt themselves irreparably or push against their boundaries too soon.

But as Elyse said, what is the point of stretching if not to pull past the limit?

It doesn't change the fact that it hurts, but Kuro nods anyway, and stays rooted to her spot, while Elyse crawls the last few centimeters between her and the old gnarled tree, letting out a triumphant bark when she touches her nose to the tree trunk. Through their bond, Kuro feels her daemon's joy, and laughs, long and wild in the night, happiness bubbling in her chest when Elyse turns around and runs back to her, leaping in the air and turning in a frost-colored ermine to burrow herself in Kuro's arms.

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She sees the man's daemon before the man himself. It would be hard not to, when she has to be the biggest cat Kuro has ever laid eyes on. Her chest is deep and her waist's narrow, with an altogether slender build. The tan fur is short, and apart from her white underside her body is dotted with round black spots everywhere, from her small head down to her tail, which ends in a bushy white tuft. Black tear marks run from the corner of her eyes down the sides of the nose and mouth.

_Beautiful_, is all Kuro thinks.

She looks glorious, and Kuro can barely tear her eyes away from her, only doing so because Elyse has changed forms again, becoming an artic wolf with her lips peeled back, showing red gums and fangs longer than the girl's fingers.

If anything, the cat daemon looks merely amused by Elyse's aggressive display, showing not an ounce of fear that is the usual reaction whenever Kuro's daemon turns into one of her bigger forms.

"Don't try to pick fights with things bigger and stronger than you, little cub. That is rule number one."

"Shimi," comes a mildly reproachful voice from behind the cat daemon, and it is then that Kuro first sees the man whose soul settled into such a majestic shape.

All in all, he doesn't seem very impressive. That goes to show not to judge a book by its cover. But what catches Kuro's attention is the way Elyse stiffens at the sight of the grey haired man, backing away so fast is a wonder she didn't trip in her own paws. Turning into a moth, she flies to Kuro's shoulder, whispering in her ear, urgently "_Run._"

The girl can feel the fear making Elyse's little body tremble, and that more than anything makes up her mind. Elyse has never before show fear. Never.

And she is terrified now.

_Dangerous,_ her daemon scream at her, and together they turn around and run. Or try to, before Kuro is dangling in the air in the man's grip and Elyse is a trashing, snarling wildcat trapped between Shimi's paws.

"Quiet now, little cub. We just want to talk."

"Let go of her!" Kuro screams, anger at the way her daemon is being trapped in place by the much larger cat turning her bold. "Let go of us!"

"Why should I let go of my daughter?"

Kuro freezes at the same time Elyse, still trapped under the cheetah's paws, lets out a low growl that sounds suspiciously like "You've got to be _kidding_ _me_."

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**AN: This is a gift for my good friend Kyuubi Sama, in commemoration for the spectacular play she performed last Saturday. I will piss myself laughing every time I remember how you played as the charioteer, or, my personal favorite, "This is a fallacy, Polly!"**

**You were amazing up there, really.**

**If you guys want more of this, review!**


	8. Cold Hell Part II

**Cold Hell**

Summary: The life of Kaguya Hiyasu. The child he was, the things he did, the man he could have been, and the monster he ultimately became.

(_One doesn't have to be dead in order to be in Hell. Rei knows this better than most men. He also knows that Hell is not a flaming pit that burns your soul for eternity._

_Hell is cold, and that may be worse than any fire._)

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**WARNINGS: Minor character and OC's deaths, cannibalism and violence. If any of that bothers you or could possibly be a trigger, don't read this.**

**Also, this is unedited, so beware grammar mistakes.**

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**part II**

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Spiky black hair pulled back in a ponytail to reveal blue eyes set on an unusually tanned face. Standard shinobi shoes, dark blue pants, and a mesh black and purple shirt. A headband proudly tied around a left arm.

Nakashima Yukio, age thirteen, son of two first generation ninjas, graduated at the top of his class, becoming Rookie of the Year. He likes unagi and despises anything with crab in it. His pastimes include drawing and reading. His dream is to become the head of the Research and Development of New Jutsus. Despite being older than him, Yukio barely reaches Hiyasu's shoulders, and the young Kaguya doesn't know if it is because he is awfully short for his age, or if it is Hiyasu who is taller than average. He concludes that it's a combination of both.

Nakashima appears, at first, like a quiet, shy and polite boy, more of an observer than a participant, and Hiyasu is hoping that that won't change. Alas, the boy is not as timid as first assumed, and, as soon as he has finished assessing his new teammates, his personality makes a 180 degrees turn. Suddenly, Nakashima is more talkative, witty and –dare he say it- even _charming_.

And utterly stupid.

After ten minutes, Hiyasu is confident the boy suffers from some kind of sickness, because no one could possibly be that annoying without the excuse of being mentally-ill.

Unfortunately, Gengetsu-sensei is quick to dissuade him from his belief. It matters not in the end, for the one who really caught his attention was not Nakashima, but rather, their other teammate.

Messy, silvery-white hair that tumbles down in small waves around a pale, round face, the wild strands held back from her forehead only by the Kiri headband tied there, the longer bangs barely brushing her shoulders and making her look like a boy. The short white pants and black shirt did little to dispel the image, especially when coupled with the dirty knees and scrapped knuckles badly bandaged. All in all, her appearance wasn't at all uncommon in the Land of Water, her beauty a simple one that with some work might catch, but not hold, people's attention. But even still, there was something in her that drew the eyes, made you want to take a closer look. Only slightly taller than Nakashima, the girl exudes the type of confidence Hiyasu has only seen in men and women thrice their age, people who are completely sure of their place in the world and are content –no, _overjoyed_\- with it. It's not the kind of thing one would expect from a girl who has barely reached the cusp of womanhood.

Izumi Sakura. Age thirteen. An orphan since birth, raised in one of Kiri's orphanages, graduated as the top kunoichi of her class, despite hating flower arrangement lessons and using every excuse she could think of to skip it. Ironic, considering her rather flowery name. But her name might as well be the only thing girly about her. Bolder than any boy he has ever seen, outspoken and sometimes surprisingly thoughtful, the tomboyish Sakura's hobbies include practicing her taijutsu, taking walks around the village and making new friends. She has not yet found something she can't eat and like and she is absolutely terrified of spiders, because of some accident she refuses to speak about. Hiyasu already knows how to get rid of the girl when she gets too annoying.

Still, he can't deny she's interesting. After all, it's not every day that one hears "My dream for the future is to become a professional mediator and to break my family's curse!"

Everyone gives her a funny look at that, and Nakashima tries not-so-discreetly to inch away from the girl. She huffs at them all, sticking out her tongue at the blue eyed boy.

If nothing else, Hiyasu decides, the girl will serve as an endless source of amusement.

And then she turns to him with a smirk on her lips and laughter in her eyes. "What about you Kaguya-san? What's your dream?"

He doesn't say anything, because he can't. The only think he can think of is how he ever though the girl in front of him looked plain. No one could be considered plain when they had such eyes. Dark pink, some would say simply, and leave it at that, but it was also so much more. It was the color of the corals lying in the deep of the oceans. It was the color of the sky when the sun was setting over the horizon, just before it turned purple and became the usual dark blue of the night. It was the color of his mother's favorite kimono, the one she would try to use as often as she could. He remembers pressing his cheek against the soft fabric, his mother's sweet scent floating from it and calming his mind.

"Are you okay?"

Gengetsu-sensei never lets him forget how much he looked like a flabbergasted fish for minutes after that.

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Against his will, Hiyasu is forced to take part of what Gengetsu-sensei likes to call team-bonding, when in truth it is nothing more than him unleashing his sadistic side on his three cute and unsuspecting students and forcing them to _work together or die._

At the end of another brutal tor- erh, _team-bonding_, Hiyasu is leaning heavily against a tree trunk, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a long and hot shower. He is bruised and exhausted, freezing and dripping wet from when sensei kicked him in the river, but there's a tiny spark of satisfaction when he notes that his two teammates are much worse-off than him. Nakashima tries, and fails miserably, to stand up on his own, giving up when he slips for what must have been the fourth time already, and Izumi-

Hiyasu blinks at the hand reaching out for him, his female teammate giving him a tired grin that looks more like a grimace, as if even using her facial muscles pains her. Even past the point of exhaustion, her eyes still manage to burn with determination.

"Help me up?"

And Hiyasu, for some odd reason, still staring at her eyes, does.

(Her hand is a warm heat against his own and full of calluses, nails cut short and skin rough from too much time training with kunai. They are not the dainty and delicate hands of a high-born lady or one of those simpering kunoichi, who are more interested in batting their eyelashes to the boys than to train. These are hands of a fighter, a warrior, and that make Hiyasu respect her just a bit more)

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It's late, they are sitting in a ramen's shop stool and Team Thirteen is trying to scrounge up enough money to pay for the bill their sensei has once again left them to deal with. Nakashima looks at the pitiful amount of coins they managed to find inside their pockets, looks at the angry face of the owner of the stall, and gulps.

Izumi mirrors his actions, and soon his two idiot teammates are bowing frantically and apologetically to the vendor, a chorus of "We're sorry!"s leaving their mouths in a torrent.

Hiyasu has had enough. It's late and he wants to go sleep, he doesn't have time to deal with this nonsense.

"You," he calls out the ramen cook, glaring him down. "I'm Kaguya Hideaki's heir. I don't believe my team and I need to pay. Don't you agree?" he says more, making certain that the man knows who he is dealing with.

Predictably, the man goes pale at the mention of the Kaguya Clan Head, and nods just as anxiously as Nakashima and Izumi had done moments before. The Kaguyas have a reputation, one that says it is not wise to anger with them, least they want their business –and their health- ruined.

They walk out of the stand, Hiyasu in the lead as always, and behind him there's Nakashima at his right and Izumi at his left. Even then he can't _not_ notice the reproachful glares being shot at his back. He stops, whirling around and demanding in a snarl "What?"

Nakashima frowns harder at him but looks away, saying nothing, well aware that while Hiyasu might tolerate his jokes and goofiness for some time, there are limits to his patience, limits that are already stretched thin. Limits that even know, after months of being teammates and forming tentative bonds, Nakashima is wary of crossing.

But Izumi doesn't back down, perhaps because she doesn't know the meaning of the words or because she isn't and will never be one to falter in the face of danger, always running towards it, fast and reckless and without thought or care.

Hiyasu finds that just a tiny bit endearing.

"You didn't have to do that. Waving your status in front of the man to make him cower in submission… that was mean, and unnecessary. What was the worst that could happen? He would have made us wash some plates or maybe help him out for the remaining of the night. We couldn't do that?!"

Hiyasu looks at her as if she's a strange new creature he has stumbled upon. "You are mad," he says, something like awed shock and confusion coloring his tone. "Why? I got us away from there without having to pay. What's there to be mad about?"

Izumi's face reddens in anger even more. "You were acting like a bully! And a pampered one at that, using your dad's position to your advantage!"

He sends her a frankly bewildered look. "Of course I did. Why shouldn't I? We are ninjas and I am heir to my clan. We must use every tool in our arsenal to our benefit, and if saying that my father is Kaguya Hideaki will work to my advantage, why not say it?"

Really, what's her deal?

Izumi's mouth opens once more, no doubt to deliver a scathing reply, only to stop when Nakashima puts a hand on her shoulder. It's a light touch, just a simple, wordless reminder, and gone as fast as it appeared, but for some reason the look that the two share between them, communicating with a thousand words without saying a single thing, makes something burn hot in the pit of Hiyasu's stomach. It takes him a moment to indentify the feeling. It has been so long since the last time he had reason to feel jealousy after all.

"Well?" he snaps, breaking the eye contact between them. And Izumi sighs deeply, shrugging despondently.

"Nothing, Kaguya-san. Let's just go. Me and Yukio are tired, and I'm sure you are too. It's been a long night."

It doesn't escape his notice that she refers to Nakashima by his first name, while calling him 'Kaguya-san'. Granted, he has never given her permission to call him by his first name, but it still needles something inside him at the blatant familiarity his two teammates use when talking to each other.

It bothers him, for some reason.

Hiyasu doesn't like it.

(He likes it a whole lot less when he realizes that the expression Izumi gives him before they part ways is one of disappointment, as if she had been expecting better from him. He doesn't own her anything, has no need or desire to reach whatever set of expectations she has drawn up for him. He already has enough of them from the clan and from Hideaki.

So why does he feel like he has failed?)

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The next morning before the team meeting in the training grounds, grumbling low under his breath all the while, Hiyasu arrives at the ramen stand and practically throws the money in the face of the vendor.

"W-what-!"

"Keep the change," he growls, before stalking away like an angry cat.

Somehow, Izumi discovers what he did even when he says nothing. She greets him at the field with a warm smile and asks for his help to train her new moves while Nakashima is occupied discussing some ancient and obscure piece of ninjutsu with sensei, their noses burrowed inside a tome larger than Hiyasu's head. At the end of their sparring match, she is calling him Hi-kun like Gengetsu-sensei does and he can't bring himself to be bothered by it.

(If pressed, he might even admit that he likes it)

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It goes somewhat like this:

The Kaguya are a noble, old and powerful bloodline. They have been a political and –especially- a military force at the top of Kiri's food chain since the village's conception. It is only expected that the heir of such a prestigious clan will marry the daughter of an equally great family.

The daughter, in this case, is Kimiko of the Kumori clan. Raised from the cradle to become the ideal wife of a Clan Head of her father's choice, Kimiko is everything her station as the first daughter of a clan leader warrants. She is gentle and patient, soft-spoken with a fragile appearance, elegant in her beautiful formal kimono and perfectly styled hair. She knows when to speak and when to keep her mouth shut, how to do flower arrangements and organize a household staff. She can sing and play the shamisen, along with another great variety of musical instruments. The arts of cooking, cleaning and rearing of children are no mysteries to her. She is, without a doubt, the epitome of what the perfect wife and future mistress of a Clan should strive to be.

In other words, she is extremely, horribly _dull_.

(She is everything Sakura is not.)

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"Since we are to be married, may I call you Hiyasu-kun?"

_No, you may not._

He gives her a charming smile. "Only if you will allow me to call you Kimi-chan."

She blushes prettily and nods her consent. This is their third encounter since their fathers arranged the match, and Hiyasu is walking her along the koi fish pound behind the Kaguya's Main House, showing her the gardens like a proper gentleman. He bets he will have her wrapped around his little finger before the day is over, if she isn't already.

So easy. _Too_ easy.

As he bows down to kiss her hand goodbye, he can't help the shudder of disgust that travels down his spine at the thought of having to spend the rest of his life married to Kimiko Kumori.

"Are you cold, Hiyasu-kun?" she asks, noticing his shudder.

He looks up at her, and maybe there's something in his eyes, because Kimi suddenly freezes, face palling at an alarming pace and he can practically smell the fear wafting from her.

_Weak, _he thinks in revulsion. _So weak._

"Yes. I am."

Later he learns that the first daughter of the Kumori Clan Head threw an unholy fit and demanded the betrothal be cancelled. Hiyasu was all for it. He didn't need a wife anyway. He had plenty of time to find one by himself in the future.

(_A flash of silvery-white hair, forever messy and free, rushing forward with abandon, unwavering steps and flying fists, a fiery temper none could tame and eyes the color of the setting sun, screaming her resolve to all who saw them._

_How could he not love her?)_

Instead, they decide to switch brides.

Now Hiyasu is promised to Kimiko's younger twin sister, a girl called Kisaki, who unlike her sister was raised to hide sweet poison behind every sweeter smile and be the lovely flower with hidden thorns. From the first time they meet, he knows that this one will be much harder to get rid of.

In the end, it's not necessary to dispose of Kisaki. One look in her eyes and he can already tell that they are in the same page. This is a marriage of convenience, not of love. The most they will ever feel between them is cordial respect, and there's no point trying to strive for more. Children are expected and the only reason they will ever bed each other, and once their duty to their respective clans are fulfilled there is nothing holding them back from acquiring lovers, in the condition that such illicit affairs will be kept far away from the public's eye and no children be born from them.

All in all, Hiyasu is warming up to the thought of being engaged to Kisaki Kumori.

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They are older now, somewhere past their fifteens and closer to their twenties, and it's in the middle of the Second Shinobi War. It is then that Hiyasu experiences true hell for the first time.

It's not the bloodshed and pain that makes terror seize his heart and steal the breath from his lungs. It's not the rage and the grief that falls on all sides of the battlefield, when people see their friends and siblings and loved ones being cut down and die in front of them.

He can deal with the blood. He can deal with the death, the pain, the grief. He has dealt with them since he could remember.

What he can't deal with is the cold that falls on them day in and day out inside their prison made of ice and frozen rock.

Team Thirteen had been on a mission alongside two other chunins, returning home tired and bruised but victorious, another squad of enemies dispatched from their borders.

And then they are ambushed.

Fight instincts kick in and his team dispersers, each taking on an opponent. But they are outnumbered two to one, and Hiyasu is forced to signal a retreat. That's the first mistake. The second comes when reason abandons him when he sees Sakura get stabbed in her tight by one enemy and another coming from behind to slit her throat.

After that is a blur of red and motion, Yukio by his side and helping support Sakura between them as they ran after the other two squad members. They find a cave eventually, and promptly crash inside the place.

Hiyasu's third mistake is trusting in someone else to stand guard.

The explosion rocks the whole cave, making stalactites shake from the ceiling and dust and rocks fall down over the mouth of the cave.

They are trapped.

And in that moment, Hiyasu knows that they will be trapped for a very, very long time.

(_Winter has arrived_)

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It's day three of their imprisonment and their food supply is dwindling rapidly. They had managed to bandage Sakura's tight with a strip of clothes torn from Hiyasu's pants, but blood had already seeped past it and Yukio worried about infection settling in. They try to dig the frozen earth using only their nails, only for them to split and bleed. They can't use ninjutsu in the fear of causing a cave-in, and their only hope is that someone will sense their chakra and find them.

Those are not good odds.

Hiyasu, who has always been the most sensitive to the cold, shivers. Yukio notices and scuttles closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an effort to share body heat. They lie together with Sakura between them, and in these moments, Hiyasu can almost forget the hunger slowly gnawing his stomach.

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Day seven, and there is only the small amounts of water gathered from the melting ice around them. Hiyasu has long forgotten what being warm feels like and the sun is but a distant memory. Sakura is asleep more often than not, mumbling incoherent words to herself, and every time Yukio tries to clean her wound, the look in his face gets grimmer. The last of their food had been consumed when Hiyasu forced Sakura's mouth open and Yukio shoved half-a-protein bar inside. The other two's complains were quickly silenced by Hiyasu's glare. The young Kaguya watches his female teammate swallow the last bit of their food and hopes that the faint rosiness that blooms in her too-pale and gaunt cheeks is not a figment of his imagination. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep. There is nothing more to do than to wait for a rescue that might never come.

Or come too late.

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They have lost count of how many days they've been stuck here. Has it been days, weeks, months? Had someone already noticed their absence? Was someone searching for them right now? They didn't know, and had no way of finding out. Time was an abstract concept that had long since lost any significance. Before, they talked between themselves, quiet whispers in the dark, but now even that had lost its appeal. Hiyasu didn't even feel hungry anymore. Now there was only tiredness, a bone-deep weariness that dragged him down to sleep. Sometimes he just closed his eyes and the thought of not opening them again would flit through his sluggish mind, before even that went away. There was only the dark and the enormous fatigue.

And the cold. Always, always the cold.

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Things change abruptly.

One of the two new additions to their team dies peacefully in his sleep. Hiyasu wakes up to the acrid smell of blood and the sounds of a rabid animal feasting on a carcass.

Yukio is the first one to figure out what is happening, and finds enough strength left in him to scream. It's not an earsplitting sound, he isn't strong enough to that, but after what it might be an eternity of silence, it's as loud as an explosion. His male teammate tries to vomit, but there's nothing in his stomach to throw up. All the while, Hiyasu stares at the scene in front of him, trying to comprehend what he's seeing.

When it dawns on him, he stands up, for the first time in days leaving Sakura and Yukio behind. His legs are weak as a newborn fawn, hands trembling while he grasps a kunai. Silent, he makes his way across the cave, until he has a front row seat of the spectacle happening. The other is gorging himself in the corpse's meaty insides, hands slick with warm blood, the red liquid trailing down his chin while making sounds of sinful pleasure, like this was the best food he has ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Hiyasu buries the blade in his skull.

And then he pulls it out, opens his squad member's stomach and start sorting out what they could eat raw and what they should try to cook first. One of the corpses had been carrying a lighter and they could make a small fire using the dead's clothes and other miscellaneous things.

He gives a contemplative look at the head while taking out the entrails. Was it safe to eat the brain?

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They rouse Sakura from her feverish sleep with the mouth-watering smell of cooking meat. Yukio helps her sit up, keeping her upright and making encouraging noises even when his face is green and he fights to not vomit the first thing he has eaten in days.

Hiyasu feeds her calmly, spoonful after spoonful, talking aloud to fill the silence. Both boys thank heaven that their teammate is too out of it to question where the meat comes from.

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They are finally rescued when a fire from outside burns away the ice covering the rocks. Hiyasu is the only one awake and the first to see light for the first time in what feels like years.

There's a figure standing in the smoking ruins of what was once an impenetrable rock wall, the white background obscuring her features some. But even then he can't miss the way redred_**red**_ eyes stare at him.

"Who are you?" he whispers, voice cracked and too low.

"You can call me Nie."

The woman looks around the cave, eyes lingering on the remains of the two corpses and the very obviously missing organs.

"So, I wasn't fast enough, huh? I had hoped that I would get here soon enough to avoid this."

She doesn't look or even sound horrified, and Hiyasu has to wonder if Nie also partook in eating another human being's flesh. The question must have showed in his eyes, for the woman smirked dimly.

"It was long time ago," she says briefly, humming under her breath as she entered the cave fully and kneeled beside Sakura. By then Yukio was already awake, kunai raised to defend their sick teammate.

"Oh please, lower your weapon boy. No one is going to die today."

Hiyasu frowns at her, trying to get his legs to move. "How can you know that? Do you see the future by chance?"

She turns to look at him, the waterfall of silver-gray hair obscuring half of her face, and Hiyasu can't stop the thought of _She looks like Sakura, _before he sees himself reflected on the blood-red orbs once more.

_(Hot, hot, hot, but so cold and alone and miserable, blood spilling from his throat, bubbling in his mouth and-)_

Hiyasu stumbles back, back pressing against the rock wall and hand clawing at his throat, trying to close a gash that wasn't there. Yukio gives a startled shout, asking him if his alright, torn between going to the Kaguya's aid or staying put to protect Sakura. But all Hiyasu can see is those red eyes smirking at him from behind long strands of silver-gray hair.

"Aa. It's one of my curses, you could say. Maybe that's why I'm madder than you."

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**end of part II**

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**AN: So, what do you think? There's still part three! And four probably.**


	9. Cold Hell Part III

**Cold Hell**

**Summary: The life of Kaguya Hiyasu. The child he was, the things he did, the man he could have been, and the monster he ultimately became.**

**(**_**One doesn't have to be dead in order to be in Hell. Rei knows this better than most men. He also knows that Hell is not a flaming pit that burns your soul for eternity.**_

_**Hell is cold, and that may be worse than any fire.**_**)**

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**WARNINGS: Minor character and OC's deaths, mention of cannibalism and torture, insanity, child deaths and violence, but nothing too graphic. If any of that bothers you or could possibly be a trigger, don't read this.**

**Also, this is unedited, so beware grammar mistakes.**

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**part III**

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They arrive in the village to discover that they've been missing for more than a month, labeled MIA and presumed dead. Their sensei stares at them for a whole minute, before standing up and rounding the three of them in a tight hug before berating them for not going to the hospital immediately upon setting foot inside Kiri.

The medics manage to save Sakura's leg from the infection, though she will forever have to use chakra to reinforce it if she wished to continue in active service. They recommend she retires early. Hiyasu and Yukio are forced to stay in the hospital was well due to the starvation symptoms and the still constant threat of possible hypothermia.

Hiyasu gives an oral report while lying in a hospital bed, only giving the bare bones as to what transpired during their time trapped inside the ice cave, completely omitting the fact of them having cannibalized one of their own. Sensei and the doctors don't ask what happened inside the cave. They suggest therapy instead. Both he and Yukio refuse. They insist. Yukio says no. They call them stubborn. Hiyasu tells them to fuck off.

Later, during the night hours when the hospital is closed to visitors and most of the inhabitants are sleeping, Hiyasu slips off his bed. His bare feet meet the cold tiles as he walks quietly towards the room of his female teammate.

Yukio is already there, sitting on a chair and looking at the sleeping girl. He twitches briefly at Hiyasu's entrance, but remains mostly still. There are dark bags under his usually bright blue eyes, and his slumped shoulders scream his defeat to the world.

"Do you think she will hate us when we tell her?" he asks softly.

"We did what we had to do. I wouldn't allow her to die. Would you?"

"We should have told her. Given her a choice at least," Yukio insists.

Hiyasu scoffs. "And risking her choosing to die? No. Life is important Yukio." _A tiny coffin being lowered in the hard earth, a boy slumped against the wall, looking at the body hanging from the rafters, the note saying _**I'm sorry** _crushed in his small hand. _"Hers even more."

"I don't think I will ever forgive myself."

Hiyasu shrugged, unconcerned. "You don't need forgiveness. You just need to live."

He plops down in another chair, taking Sakura's other hand in his. He doesn't let go until a nurse burst inside the room the next morning, frantic in her search for the two thirds of the Mizukage's old gennin team.

.

.

They tell Sakura the truth when they are liberated from the hospital, Yukio with tears in his eyes and regret and sorrow etched in his face, while Hiyasu stays impassive as always, no room for distress in him. He regretted very little in all actuality. They had done what was needed in order to survive. Wasn't that what was expected from a shinobi? So what if they had been their fellow teammates? In Hiyasu's mind, nothing was more important than their continual survival.

And maybe Sakura saw that in him; saw that disturbing lack of empathy and regret. Saw exactly how little he mourned.

Hiyasu watches her break down in Yukio's arms instead, seeing the tears streaming from the other boy's own eyes. They clutch at each other as if there's nothing else solid in the world and it is perhaps in that moment that Hiyasu realizes that he has lost her. Maybe he never really had her to begin with.

(He knows that; doesn't mean he accepts it)

.

.

.

Months later see Hiyasu sitting in front of Hideaki, a low table placed between them and sipping hot tea from fine tea cups.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with that orphan girl from your old gennin team. Kisaki-chan is beginning to feel neglected."

Hiyasu rather doubts that. He and Kisaki have a mutual agreement; she won't butt in his affairs and he will turn a blind eye towards hers.

"She is a former teammate and a dear friend. And we still run many missions together. It would be strange to _not_ spend time with her."

Though she was now spending nearly double that amount with Yukio. His grip on his tea cup tightens.

"Be that as it may, I fear that I must remind you that you have responsibilities to the Clan. You can't keep being seen with some no-name girl hanging on your arm. Or have you forgotten your duties as my heir?"

Hiyasu has to fight the urge to laugh out loud. If only. There's no way he could possibly forget his duties, not when Hideaki is always there, watching his every move, forever judging his worth. The urge to laugh stops suddenly when he hears the clan head's next words.

"That's why I have requested that she be sent away."

"_What_."

Hideaki sips his tea languidly and Hiyasu has to control himself not to lunge across the distance separating them and _wrap his hands around his throat, shake the man until his teeth rattle, until his neck breaks and his __**head rolls out**__-_

"I requested that she be sent to the Land of Snow for a long-term mission that will last six months at least. With any luck, she will stay there," that is what Hideaki says.

What Hiyasu hears: _with any luck, she will die there._

Gently, Hiyasu rests his cup on the table. "People have always been fond of gossiping, Hideaki-sama. Don't you think you are going a little too far, using baseless rumors as your only proof?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say they are baseless. Every rumor has a grain of truth in them."

"What does it matter? It's not like Kisaki-chan actually cares with whom I decide to spend my time with."

"If she doesn't care then it's your fault. You two are getting married. What do you think people will say if she finds herself a lover because her husband is too busy paying more attention to some little whore? I will not allow you to besmirch the name of our family, boy, do you understand?"

_Like you did when you fucked my mother?_ Hiyasu thinks furiously, but bites his tongue. The brief pleasure won't be worth the punishment he will get if he lets his temper control him. So instead Hiyasu rises from his seiza position on the floor before Hideaki is even done speaking, intent on leaving the room before doing something… not regrettable, no, because there are few things in his life that Hiyasu truly regrets, but potentially incriminating.

"I didn't give you permission to leave." His hand freezes on the sliding doors.

He stares down at his coiled hand for a moment, so tight that his knuckles have gone white, before uncurling them. There is a mocking voice inside his head, jeering at him.

_Dog, dog, dog, that's all you are, a dirty mutt turned rabid with a tight leash and an even tighter collar around your neck._

"Of course. Forgive me, Hideaki-sama, I was amiss in my manners. Do I have your permission to leave?"

"You do not," was the prompt response. "Come back here and finish your tea. You will leave when I say you can."

_Dog, dog, dog, _the voice mocks again.

Hiyasu's hand spasms and he can _hear_ the grinding of his bones, itching to be let out, to break free from the flimsy barrier that is his skin _and plunge into the miserable bastard's body, see the pain twisting his face while he gurgles in his own redred__**red**__ blood-_

He turns and sits down, ignoring the superior look Hideaki bestows upon him.

He's too busy thinking on how much he is coming to loath dogs.

.

.

He remembers standing over bodies as a child, pondering over his life's purpose. Thinking how it can't be just killing and killing _and killing_, being wielded like a blade in someone else's hands. Being a mere, simple tool, when he knew he could be _so much more_.

(He remembers a woman calling him _my dear Rei_)

He remembers that he is Hiyasu, heir to the Kaguya Clan, and that there are now two hundred and eight bones in his body, and the skill and resolve to conquer the whole world, one step at a time.

.

.

It isn't the first time in their clan's history that an heir ascended to the position of leader after butchering the previous head.

.

.

Hideaki is kneeling in front of him, panting and bleeding all over the floor of his master bedroom, and Hiyasu suspects that no matter for how long the servants scrub, the blood stains won't ever leave. Maybe Hiyasu himself won't allow them to be cleaned away. Let it remain as a memento, as a memory, and as a warning, to anyone foolish enough to treat him with anything less than the respect he deserved.

(And he deserves it. He knows he does)

Hiyasu is calm, the bone sword in his hand a reassuring weight that reminds him of his strength and how overly-cautious he had been, for waiting so long to do this. How wrong he was, to allow himself to take orders from a lesser man.

_No more, _he thinks, almost giddy with the realization. _A dog no more. Never again._

One last strike, one swing of his bone, and it would be over. He would be free. But...

There was just one more thing. Just one last thing, before Hiyasu could liberate Hideaki's head from his neck.

"Are you my father?"

Because even after all this time, no one ever answered him truthfully.

(And Hideaki looks at the boy-man in front of him, his mind going back to the past. He remembers coming back from a mission poisoned and a medic saying that he was now infertile, that there was no hope of him ever siring another child again. He remembers the shame and the anger simmering within him and the face of a beautiful woman with warm, frightened brown eyes staring up at him. Remembers the whispers of that same woman getting pregnant weeks later and doesn't bother dispelling the rumors of that baby being his, because then the clan won't think him incapable. He looks at the boy now, the boy he shaped and molded like wet clay in his hands, until little baby Rei turned into the icy boy Hiyasu, Hideaki's perfect heir and would-be [should-be] son. And then into the cruel, monstrous man standing over him, and the soon-to-be ex-Clan Head feels what might have been pride mixed with regret in his heart.)

"Yes. Yes, I am."

The bone sword falls.

.

.

.

A few years pass. Hiyasu becomes the Kaguya Clan Head and marries Kisaki Kumori. The Nidaime gets old and weaker and decides to pass the hat on to the next generation. Hiyasu becomes Sandaime Mizukage and his old team throws him a party. Kisaki's belly grows round with their first child and the clan rejoices the coming of their new heir.

And Yukio asks Sakura's hand in marriage. She says yes.

He is to be the best man in their wedding.

(He doesn't know if he should laugh or cry. He decides to do both in the privacy of his office)

.

.

.

"I'm pregnant."

Hiyasu stares at Sakura blankly, his usually sharp mind struggling to make sense of her words.

Pregnant, she says. Sakura is pregnant.

And she looks so happy with that fact too, practically glowing from the news and the prospect of being a mother in the near future. At her side, Yukio stands tall with pride and joy, blue eyes shining when he looks at Hiyasu. "We want you to be the godfather," he says, beaming and hopeful, as if he hasn't just stabbed the new Mizukage with a blunt kunai when relaying the 'good' news.

"No one else would do. What says you, Hi-kun?"

What he says? What _could _he say?

"I would be honored."

There was nothing more to say.

.

.

Sometimes he daydreams of killing Yukio. It would be so easy too, the trusting fool, always letting his guard down around him when they are together, because they are teammates, best friends-

"We're family, Hiyasu," Yukio says one late night in the Mizukage office, sake cups strewn around the table while the paperwork lies forgotten on the floor.

They are mourning (or at least, Yukio's mourning. Hiyasu is completely indifferent towards the whole ordeal) the losses of their forces against Kumo. The Kaguya didn't know why the other man cared about the many faceless shinobi that perished in Lightning Country, but when Nakashima showed up with a three bottles of strong alcohol and two cups, well, he wasn't one to turn down free drinking.

And that's how they ended up drunk in his office, talking about family, of all things.

Deciding that he wasn't nearly drunk enough to endure this conversation, the Sandaime filled his cup to the brim again, only to blink down confusedly at his empty hand, where, he was certain of it, his full sake cup had been resting moments ago.

Looking up, he isn't surprised, and only mildly annoyed, to see his teammate chugging down his sake. He sends a dangerously sharpened pencil towards Yukio's eye only for the man to cock his head to the side, avoiding the projectile completely.

"Spoilsport…" Hiyasu mutters under his breath.

"You're so predictable sometimes, Hi-chan," Yukio chuckles, surrendering the cup back to its rightful owner.

"Stop calling me Hi-chan. And you're a pain in the ass. With low tolerance," he adds, seeing the blush on Yukio's face and his unfocussed eyes.

"Doesn't matter. Ya love me anyways."

"Don't say stupid things Yukio."

"But they're –hic!- true!"

"You're drunk."

"Still true. We're family, and family sticks toge-hic!-ther. Right?"

Hiyasu shrugs. He doesn't know. Not like he has had a healthy family before.

His teammate's eyes narrow suddenly, eyes coming into focus and sharpening on him. Slowly, to show just how serious he is being right now, Yukio speaks.

"We are a family. We'll be together, the three of us, till the end, Hiyasu."

And Hiyasu dares to hope.

(He should have known better)

.

.

.

"Be careful, you idiot. We're at a war. Or have you forgotten?" Hiyasu frowns at him, willing his hands to not clench.

Yukio is all too amused when he looks back at him, as if he could tell from just one look what the Mizukage was thinking.

His male teammate was always so very annoying.

"Don't worry, Hi-chan. I'm the lucky one, remember? I will be just fine. Just promise to take care of the village and my fair lady wife while I'm away, huh? Maybe you will be able to convince her to change her mind about our son's name. What kind of name is 'Riko' for a boy, anyway? Jasmine child, really? The kid would hate us forever if we give him such a girly name. No, I was thinking something more along the lines of Haiza. Or maybe Yagura. What do you think?"

"I think you should _focus in your mission_."

He received a pout in response.

"You're no fun, Hi-chan."

"For the last time, you insufferable fool, _don't call me that_."

.

.

.

Nakashima Yukio is _dead_.

_("Don't worry about me so much, Hi-chan. I'm a jounin now. I can take care of myself, you know."_

"_You can't take care of a potted plant, Nakashima. And stop calling me Hi-chan."_

"_But you secretly like it!"_

"_I do __**not**__ like it."_

"_I said _secretly_.")_

Nakashima Yukio is **dead**.

_("Stop frowning so much. You will get wrinkles and then no girl will ever want to go out with you. And we can't have our illustrious Mizukage single forever, right?"_

"_Why would my marital status be of any concern to you, Nakashima? And have you forgotten that I'm currently engaged?"_

"_So cold, Hi-chan. Just because you're engaged now it doesn't mean it will be forever, or that you can't date other people to see if someone else catches your fancy. Besides, I thought the reason behind my concern was obvious."_

"_You thought wrong, as per usual. Now, will you clarify to me what is apparently so 'obvious'?"_

"_Your marital status is of my concern because I don't want you to be alone. I care about you, Hiyasu."_

"… _You're being a fool. Stop it."_

"_Stop what? Caring or being a fool?"_

_Both. Neither. Never change, Yukio._

_Please._

"_If you can't find an answer to that, then you're more hopeless than I feared.")_

_Nakashima Yukio is_ _**deadDeaddEaDDEAD**_.

_("Promise me you will take care of my dear lady while I'm away?"_

"_Aren't you her husband? You should take care of her yourself."_

"_Aa. I should. But then what are best friends for?"_

"_We are not best friends. I don't think we can even qualify as friends. I hate you."_

"_So mean, Hi-chan. I love you too.")_

"Don't say such stupid things, Yukio. Stop it." Hiyasu says, standing over the grave and letting the heavy rain wash over him.

If he is crying, no one, not even Hiyasu, will ever know.

Hiyasu kids himself into believing that he hears someone ask, "Stop what? Saying stupid things or loving you?" before turning away from the tombstone and leaving the graveyard.

He never comes back again.

_(We're a family now, Hiyasu)_

.

.

.

Sakura's water breaks. Her face is white when the medic-nins swarm around her.

"Too soon…" she whispers, eyes wide as she looks at the bulge in her stomach. "It's too soon, too soon, Kami, please, _no_."

Hiyasu stands outside the room, back slumped against the wall and cursing Yukio Nakashima to hell and back not for the first time.

.

.

"You must make a choice. You or the child. We can't save both."

They shouldn't even need to ask.

"My son will live."

By her will, by her sacrifice, her son will _live_.

_I'm sorry, Hi-kun…_

.

.

"Hey, Hi-kun…"

"Stop talking. Just stop talking."

"I… I want to say-"

"It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter anymore."

You are **dying**.

Why do they all die in the end?

_(A child crouches on the floor of the living room, back against the wall and staring at the body swinging from the rope tied to the roof. There's a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be, and he can't help but think_

Am I cursed? )

"... Hiyasu… Please Hiya-"

"Rei."

"What?"

"My name. My true name is Rei."

When was the last time he uttered those words? He couldn't remember. Has it really been so long?

What was he doing? What was he going to do?

"Rei…? Rei? That's a… very beautiful… name, Rei. You should use it… more often…"

"Didn't you want something?"

"… Please. Please, I want you…"

He thought he was prepared to anything that would leave Sakura's lips. He thought he was ready.

He was not.

"Please, Rei… I want you… _to be happy_…"

…

This…

This.

_Is_.

**Not**.

_**Fair**_.

.

.

.

The medics try to hand him the baby. He kills them all before anyone could utter one more word and the only thing that saves Sakura's boy of dying at the ripe old age of eleven minutes is the fact that the nurse holding him doesn't let go even when she falls on her back, blood spraying from a gash in her neck.

He stands there for a few seconds, taking comfort from the familiar sight of bodies all around him and the feeling of blood on his skin. He feels good this way, calmer, number. More grounded, except not really.

(He is anything but stable at this point)

He's numb enough to forget about the hollow feeling in his chest.

This little moment of peacefulness, as with everything else in his life, does not last. His reprieve is cut short by the piercing cry of a newborn.

He stalks to the body of the nurse, whose hands were still clutching at the squirming bundle in her arms. He picks it up, further staining the cloth wrapped around the newborn with more blood.

Hiyasu wants to drop it and see the baby's head crack open on the floor like an egg, wants to see his brain spill out on the hardwood floor. He wants to reach out a hand and wrap around that fragile little neck and _twisttwist__**twist**_until he hears the bone snap like his sanity did mere minutes ago. Or was it weeks ago, when his best friend died? Months? Years? He doesn't know, can't remember and doesn't care enough to find out.

He only wants the thing dead.

_She died because of it. __**It**__**killed**__**her**__._

He ignores the faint voice in his head –the one that reminds Hiyasu of Umi, of Yukio and Gengetsu-sensei- saying that it was Sakura's choice. She choose to die, choose to let her son live at the cost of her own life. But he doesn't want to hear it, because it will only mean that she cared more about that baby than she did him.

_**She chose to leave him**_. And Hiyasu can't –_won't_\- believe that.

(_An empty chest and empty eyes, blood under his feet and fingernails, a monster made of wrath and white bones, always cold and dark and alone no matter where he goes or to where he looks…_

The child looks up at the body hanging from the rafters. _Am I cursed?_)

It's easier, so infinitely easier, to blame the baby.

The baby, who has stopped crying the second Hiyasu picked it up, and was now eerily silent, almost as if it knew that its life was being heightened in the balance at this very instant.

Why should he allow it to live, when Sakura couldn't?

_Because she and Yukio trusted you to take care of their son._

Before he could refute that statement, say that godfather or not, he didn't want that responsibility, the baby wriggled in his hold, arms weakly trying to untangle themselves from underneath the blankets. When one hand was finally free, the baby tried to get a hold of one of Hiyasu's white-blue hair.

When Hiyasu looks down, the breath leaves his lungs. It's not a baby he is looking at.

He's looking at Sakura.

"Such beautiful eyes you have," he tells the baby, softly, almost gently, taking hold of that tiny fist and moving it away from his hair. "So beautiful."

There's blood on both of them, bodies strewn on the floor and the stench of death hovering in the air. Outside, he can hear the howling of the wind, can feel the freezing cold already seeping into the marrow of his bones. It's a horrible way to enter this world, and if he was a superstitious man, Hiyasu would probably think this is an ill-omen for the boy's future.

But there could be nothing worse than his own birth, so he shrugs it off and cradles the infant closer to his chest and warmth, while humming a lullaby he remembers from his own wretched childhood.

The baby falls asleep in the next second and while there's still an urge to just drop him and hear his fragile skull crack against the floor, it has been subdued and mostly forgotten.

(For now)

"Yagura," the Mizukage whispers while looking down at the baby in his arms. He doesn't think he has ever held something as carefully as he did the newborn, not even when he held his own firstborn. "Your name will be Yagura."

As Hideaki would say, it's a good and strong name, and most of all, it's a name Sakura wouldn't have chosen. Naming their son Yagura is not Hiyasu's way of honoring Yukio's wishes, but of spiting on Sakura's.

_You wanted him to be named differently? Then you should have been here to call him differently._

It's not fair, but then, no one has ever accused Hiyasu of being fair.

Before long, Hiyasu stands in front of an orphanage. He leaves Yagura there with a bewildered and frightened worker, telling the woman that if the child ever expressed a desire to follow the path of a ninja to call for him. He would not force or influence Yagura to become a shinobi. He would not search the child of his own volition. Maybe Sakura's son will be adopted by a loving couple in the next months; maybe he will grow up to run away from the orphanage and become a thief. Maybe he will become a sex worker, a merchant, a teacher, a sailor or a fisherman. Maybe Hiyasu will never have to lay eyes on the boy again, and consequently will never affect Yagura's life. He would leave it up to fate to decide the course of their lives, if they would ever again cross each other.

That would be his last gift to his old teammates.

(Too bad it was all for naught)

.

.

The name 'Rei' dies alongside Sakura Nakashima nee Izumi. For the rest of his life, no one will ever call the Sandaime Mizukage of Kirigakure no Sato by that childhood name again. Some will not say anything out of fear, but for most people, it will be because Kaguya Rei never existed to the world. He was never important, never worthy enough to be remembered.

And for the few people that did consider that little boy important, that believed he was someone worth knowing and loving…

As they say, one shouldn't pity the dead, but the living they leave behind.

.

.

.

His first son is born a few months before Yagura. He is named Hideo, after some old and powerful Clan Head that died in a bloody storm of water and bones. Hiyasu holds him in his arms, recalling the memory of cradling Natsu like this when they were younger, his brother still alive and happy, giggling in his lap. He feels the first stirrings of what might have been parental love. It does not last for long.

Hideo is dead one week later, struck down by an illness far beyond the Clan's or Kirigakure's medical expertise.

His second son is born two years after Yagura. He is named Hisashi, "long-lived"; his wife's idea to make sure this child would live to see his first birthday, at the very least. Hiyasu refuses to hold him and keeps the boy at arm's length.

Hisashi does lives, as per his wife's hopes. He lives long enough to die at the age of eight, by which time Kisaki has already given birth to a still-born girl and to another boy, Katsuo, aged seven and now the new heir of the Kaguya Clan.

Katsuo dies a year later, assassinated by enemy forces.

Hiyasu looks at his grim-faced wife, at the stones that mark their children's graves, and thinks this is punishment. Punishment for not loving his family enough, for not being a good father and not even trying to be. Or maybe for killing his own sire. He mourns that, once more, he is left alone with no one to carry on his blood.

He doesn't mourn his children's deaths.

(Or maybe he does, but his heart is always feeling so numb these days that the extra grief is barely noticed, much less acknowledged)

.

.

.

Years pass, and Fate proves to be a merciless bitch once more.

"I am a brutal, cruel man."

Those are the first words he says to Sakura and Yukio's son.

They are, probably, the most truthful thing he has ever said to Yagura, five years old and holding a practice kunai, staring at him with his mother's wide pink eyes, wonder and hope and innocence just _oozing_ out of him. It almost makes him want to vomit.

It's not his fault that the boy eventually forgets them. It's not his fault that Yagura is so attention-starved that he follows him everywhere, like a devoted and well-trained puppy. It's not his fault that the child is foolish enough to think he actually cares about him.

It's not.

But it doesn't change that fact that Yagura thinks that, and Hiyasu is nothing if not an opportunist.

So he lets the boy cling to him. He opens the door of his house to the child every time he appears in front of it, shivering and wide-eyed from the nightmares that he isn't strong enough to face on his own yet. He makes sure the boy knows how to prepare a good and healthy meal for himself, offers a shoulder to cry on, advice on how to fight against his bullies, how to improve his aim with kunais and to mend a broken wrist. He even takes Yagura fishing once, in the guise of showing him water walking. Hiyasu does all those things that would make him a surrogate father in the boy's eyes.

It works. _so_. _**well**_.

(Too well, perhaps)

Sometimes Hiyasu wonders when he really began to notice the tremors whacking Yagura's frame and realized that the feeling tightening in his chest was not anger or disgust, or even annoyance.

It was… Well, he didn't know what it was exactly, just that he didn't like it.

Before long, he starts avoiding the boy.

His chest is starting to feel warm every time he's near the brat and he doesn't want that, doesn't want to feel this disgusting, pathetic warmth he only ever felt around his mother, Natsu and Team Thirteen. He doesn't want to have this weakness again, not now when he has finally gotten rid of it.

(He doesn't want to be hurt again)

.

.

.

In the end, his efforts prove futile. The boy inherited both of his parent's single-minded stubbornness.

Very well then; Hiyasu can accept that. But if he has to have a weakness, then he will make sure that no one will be able to exploit it.

Hiyasu promised his teammates to take care of their son. He will teach him how to survive.

He will make Yagura strong.

.

.

.

He admits that the new graduation exam may have been a bit over the top, but one can't argue with results. Yagura's generation (those few who survived anyway) will be the strongest shinobi Kiri has seen in a good long while. And if a few talentless brats end up dying as a result… well, they were training to become shinobi, weren't they? They should have known that death is always just around the corner.

He is teaching these children what it means to be a ninja. Teaching Yagura the skills he will need in order to survive.

Isn't that his duty as Mizukage and godfather?

.

.

.

Someone once said that the path to hell was paved by good intentions.

Hiyasu doesn't have good intentions.

(_Does this mean that the place he is going to is worse than hell?_

_Yes. Yes, it does_)

He looks around him, at the carnage he has wrought, blood of his enemies and teammates alike drying on his skin and staining the snow red. _Is this hell? _He wonders standing alone in the slaughter he was responsible for.

_Hell is cold_, Hiyasu realizes, watching the snowflakes fall from the grey sky.

(He thinks he prefers to be burned)

.

.

.

Kisaki sends him a look that might have been called pitying if he had seen it in anyone else. "You don't even know what you want anymore, do you?"

And Hiyasu…

Hiyasu says nothing, because even though he isn't what one can call sane or even mildly balanced, he's still aware enough of himself, still just skittering around the edges of the abyss known as absolute madness, to know when the truth is being shoved in his face. Maybe in the next days or weeks or months he will have truly crossed the line, but right here, right now, he can only be certain of three things:

One, he loves Sakura.

Two, he loves Yagura.

And three…

He hates both of them.

But not enough to want Yagura dead. Suffering, in torment, yes, maybe, but not dead and cold and buried six feet under. After all, he loves that boy too.

(Besides, he has long since learned that there are far, far worse things than death)

.

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When Miyo is born, the first thing to cross Hiyasu's mind is to wonder how long this one will last. Will he die before the week is over? Will he grow just enough to have a taste of life before the Shinigami comes for his soul? Or will he surpass Hisashi, reaching fifteen, twenty, twenty-five? Hiyasu doesn't know, and he's not sure he cares anymore. All the children Kisaki has given him turned out to be disappointments, either by dying too early or by never demonstrating signs of his kekkei genkai. Now he wonders if the fault lies with his wife, rather than him. He doesn't want to think too deeply into it though, because then he begins to wonder if the reason of why their children never inherited his bloodline is because they are not his children. It's a dangerous thought to have with madness at the end, especially since he knows so very well how that story goes. So he doesn't think about his wife and his son, and in doing so shuts them out of his life so firmly that they always seem surprised when they see him walking through the hallways of their house, as if they had thought that he had moved away a long time ago. Hiyasu can't say he minds that because he doesn't.

He guesses that he just wasn't meant to be a family man.

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There is a certain relief in dying in Wind Country.

The sun is hot on his back, the sand practically scorching, and for the first time in decades, Hiyasu doesn't feel cold.

He looks up at the boy –man, now, Yagura deserves that much- he raised, the man he hurt and taught, loved and despised with all his heart. There is something like pride and regret mixed inside the hole where his heart is supposed to be.

The feeling of pride is dampened when Hiyasu realizes that there is no satisfaction in Yagura's face. Here the Mizukage is, his greatest enemy, the man that ruined his life, defeated and brought low, finally kneeling at Yagura's feet, and the brat doesn't even have the decency to look victorious.

(Yagura doesn't take pleasure from seeing another person's suffering. Just one more difference between them)

_Still weak, _Hiyasu despairs inside. _Still so weak._

He can't leave yet. He has to teach Yagura. Has to make sure the man will _live_.

(Sakura gave her life for her son. Hiyasu won't let him squander such a gift)

So he looks at the child, the girl with Sakura's eyes, and talks. Each of his words is a stab, each one hitting the mark, and oh, how Yagura faces pale, how he runs to his daughter the moment she falls to the ground.

_Good,_ he thinks, laughing both inside and out. _Good. She's a weakness, Yagura. You gotta cover all your weaknesses._

(A part of him hopes the girl will manage to survive as well. It would be a shame for those beautiful eyes to close forever)

His blood is gushing out of his throat, staining the golden sand red, and Hiyasu doesn't care. He laughs and laughs, all the while trying to keep his little Yagura and chibi-Sakura in his line of vision while drowning in his own blood.

Heh, how funny. He's drowning in the middle of the desert.

At least it's not cold.

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**The End**

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**AN: For those waiting for a new chapter of Dark Waters, don't fret. I will probably post it at the end of this weekend.**

**Reviews, please!**


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